Wilde Card
by Luna Goldsun
Summary: Being the ZPD's first fox officer doesn't come easy. For Nick Wilde, discovering his ne'er-do-well father has been accused of murder isn't making it any easier. But his father swears he is innocent, forcing Nick to challenge everything he believes and face the past he's trying so desperately to forget.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I've been writing fanfiction in some capacity for almost 15 years (I'm so old!). Silly me for thinking I could "retire" from it. The last fanfic I posted on this site was "Soaring Dragon, Dancing Phoenix" for the Kung Fu Panda fandom. If you're one of my followers from the KFP fandom, it's great to see you again! If you're reading this and wondering "Who the flip is this 'Luna' person?" well, I'm glad to meetcha!

It should go without saying that Disney should have changed their tagline from "Zootopia - Like Nothing You've Seen Be-Fur" to: "Zootopia - If You Weren't a Furry Before This Movie, You Are Now." Since seeing (and loving!) this movie, this little story has been swirling around in my head for months. There are two previous (read: crappy) iterations of this story on my hard drive, but this was the first one I felt was good enough to post. I hope you all enjoy it. And please read and review! After two years, I'm anxious to know if I've still got it!

Disclaimer: Zootopia and all its characters is (c) of the Walt Disney Company and its affiliates. No copyright infringement is intended, nor is this written for profit.

* * *

 **Prologue**

 _October 2016_

Judy Hopps looked at the address again: 1955 Cypress Grove Lane, Apartment 401, Savannah Central, the same address Nick had listed on his fraudulent tax forms. Apparently they weren't as fake as she had once thought; careful sleuthing told her that this was his last confirmed legal address, one he had used for twenty-five years. Where he had been living before he left for training at the police academy was still a mystery to her, despite the fact she had known him for over a month before his application was approved and he was shipped off. But process of elimination meant only one thing...

This had been the home he grew up in.

Judy looked at the address in the file again, and then up at the building in front of her. This couldn't be right. The name of the place suggested something middle-class, a nice place with tree-lined sidewalks and children playing. Not...this. She didn't know it then, but this neighborhood at one time many decades before had been one of the nicer, up-and-coming parts of the city. The narrow brownstones and red brick apartment blocks were intended for young families of all species and backgrounds to move in and make a new and better life for the next generation. That had been the plan.

Unfortunately, that plan had not come to pass.

By the time Nick was born, the glory days were swiftly coming to an end, if not already long gone, and with one economic downturn after another, life had gotten harder and harder, until the only mammals left were the ones who were too poor or too attached to leave. And the apartment block in front of her was testament to those hard times, and still bore the scars of a crime wave from almost forty years before, a decade before Nick was born.

The rabbit closed her folder and began the hike up four flights of stairs. The elevator, which had clearly seen better days, had a dusty "Out of Order" sign in front of it; even if it were totally operational, the rabbit wouldn't have trusted it anyway. It didn't take her long to find the apartment, and she noted the light streaming from under the door. Someone was home.

The thought had occurred to her that maybe she was overstepping her bounds. Nick was still away at the academy, and the graduation ceremony was only a week away. When she had last spoken to him, Judy had asked him if there was anyone he wanted to invite.

He said no.

And that bothered her to no end.

Had he had _any_ contact with his family? He'd mentioned his mother-

Judy had raised her paw to knock but jumped when the door swung open, and the resident also jumped, dropping the basket of laundry in her fright.

"Oh! I am so sorry, ma'am!" Judy apologized profusely.

"No, no, my fault!" the vixen replied. "I should've been more careful, throwing open doors like that. Oh, no, dear, you don't have to…" she said as Judy stooped to help pick up the laundry.

Judy smiled. "I don't mind!" she chirped, dropping the last shirt into the basket. It was clearly dirty laundry, but the thing that stood out the most was that it was all hospital scrubs. In fact, the aging vixen in front of her was still wearing a pair of pink and purple scrubs, and an ID card still attached to her front breast pocket. She was a nurse at Zootopia General Hospital, and her name was…

"Helen Wilde?" Judy asked.

"Yes? Oh…" the vixen trailed off and her face blanched when she saw Judy's uniform. "I'm so sorry, Officer, I didn't realize-"

"Oh no, please, nothing's wrong!" Judy assured her. "I just...is now a good time to talk?"

"It's Nick, isn't it?" she asked, clearly still worried, but almost resigned to hearing bad news. "He's hurt, or dead, and you're here to tell me…"

"No, Nick's fine! He's probably out for a run right now." _Or nursing some new wounds from the obstacle course,_ she added silently. "And I'm actually here to bring you good news. I know this must be a difficult subject, Mrs. Wilde, but…"

"You're here about Redd."

Judy blinked with confusion. "Sorry, who?"

The vixen stared at her. "Redd, Robert Wilde, goes by Redd...my ex-husband, and Nick's father? Lord, I haven't seen that old flim-flam in years… Do you have him in custody?"

"I didn't know who he was until just a minute ago," she admitted. "Mrs. Wilde, I know you're clearly busy, but if you can spare a minute or two to talk about Nick…"

"And you tell me he's fine, and not in any trouble?" the elder asked, bringing her hand up to touch a silver necklace around her neck. Judy recognized the burning oil lamp stamped on the charm as a symbol for nurses.

The bunny frowned and asked, "Ma'am, were you expecting me or someone else from the police department to visit you?"

Mrs. Wilde dropped her paw and picked up the laundry basket with a tired sigh. "Every day since Redd first walked out, and every hour since Nick left. I keep expecting to get a phone call, or have a pair of officers show up at my door in the middle of the night. I know that sounds terrible, but…"

Judy gently laid her paw on the vixen's arm. "If now is not a good time, I can come back."

Mrs. Wilde shook her head, hefted the basket to her hip and nodded her head towards the stairs. "You may as well come in. I need to throw these in the wash, but I'll be right back up. Please, Officer…?"

"Hopps. Judy Hopps, ZPD. It's nice to meet you," she said cheerily.

Mrs. Wilde smiled. It was a sad, tired smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Well, Officer Hopps, please make yourself at home. I don't drink coffee, but there's tea, water, and lemonade in the fridge if you're thirsty. Mugs and glasses are in the upper cabinet next to the sink…"

She excused herself and Judy let herself in. It felt very odd being in someone's personal space like this. Sure, she had served warrants before, and had been invited into homes for interviewing witnesses, but the level of trust it must have taken for this vixen to allow a complete stranger into her home, alone, was quite substantial.

Judy took a look around.

Immediately to her left was a galley kitchenette, in front of her was a small living space with a worn sofa, a small TV sitting on top of a short bookshelf, and a fox-sized dining set in the corner to her right. A hallway on her left must have led to the bedrooms and bathroom. It was remarkably uncluttered, orderly, and clean. Judging by the space, Judy guessed it to be at least a two-bedroom apartment, well lived-in, and clearly loved. There were memories here, she could feel it. Not all of them good, but there was love here. There had been love here for quite some time.

She turned to the kitchen to heat up the kettle. Mrs. Wilde had an old copper kettle that reminded Judy of the one in her own mother's kitchen. There were even framed needlepoint samplers on the walls. She glanced at a few of them, lovely embroidered flowers and cross-stitch motivational messages: "A Nurse's Prayer", "A Nurse's Oath", and others such as a simple Serenity Prayer. As the water heated up, Judy's attention turned to the photographs on the walls.

There were photos of Mr. and Mrs. Wilde's wedding day: one solitary image of Mrs. Wilde in her wedding dress, holding a bouquet of calla lilies, and the second showing the happy couple. Judy almost did a double-take when she saw Redd for the first time: he looked just like Nick, spitting image, right down to the sly, sleepy smile. What differed were the eyes: Redd's were sharp and - well, there was no other word for it - _predatory_ , and even in these wedding pictures those eyes showed none of the warmth and soul that Nick's had. Redd was also quite scruffy-looking in almost every photo, including his wedding pictures. On the other hand, Nick - even when he carelessly threw on whatever was clean - always managed to look put-together. Redd still looked slightly unkempt while wearing a tux, while Mrs. Wilde was sleek, smooth, perfectly polished and poised in every way. And her eyes…

Judy could have kicked herself for not realizing it sooner. Helen Wilde also had green eyes, the same warm, sleepy green eyes Nick had undoubtedly inherited from her. While Nick definitely looked like his father, his mother definitely gave him those eyes. Those soulful, carefree verdant eyes that Judy missed every day...

And speaking of Nick…

"Aww," she cooed. Baby pictures. Lots of them. Nick as a newborn, swaddled in hand-knit blankets and baby caps. Nick as an infant, toddling along while an unknown male fox held his little paws, teaching him to walk. Nick as a toddler, laying on his stomach on the floor with a coloring book and crayons scattered about. Another photo, with Redd reading a bedtime story to him. The obligatory first day of school photo, with a kindergarten-aged Nick holding a simple green backpack. Several more photos with Redd, but many more with Helen. Most of the photos on the wall were of Nick. There were a few other family members-grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins…

Judy stopped at a picture showing a teen-aged Nick, standing next to none other than a younger Finnick. They must have known each other since at least high school. And high school fashion in the late '90s provided the bunny with _plenty_ of blackmail for later. _Though to be fair, everyone regrets the things they wore in high school._ She knew she did.

But the pictures were sad, too. Judy could see the progression over time. The delight and euphoria of a newborn and promise of a bright-eyed child growing up, then fewer and fewer pictures of Redd, and a more and more sullen Nick, until suddenly the pictures stopped. There was one last photo of mother and son together, a formal family photo, when Nick appeared to be in his early twenties.

There were no pictures of him at all after around age twenty-five.

The kettle whistled, shocking her out of her reverie, and she rushed to take it off the burner. The rabbit almost kicked herself. How long had she zoned out like that? And she felt a bit guilty for invading Mrs. Wilde's privacy like that. She quickly found the mugs and boxes of tea, and steeped two cups of chamomile just as the vixen returned with the empty laundry basket.

Mrs. Wilde sighed and rubbed the small of her back as she tiredly entered the apartment. Judy handed her a mug, which she gratefully accepted. "Oh, bless your heart, you're such a love."

"Just happy to help," Judy said, and she meant it. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty…"

"Not at all! I did say to make yourself at home. Please come in and have a seat." Mrs. Wilde stepped into the living area and turned on a lamp, beckoning Judy to sit next to her on the sofa. "Now, how can I help you?"

Judy opened her folder and picked up a card. "Mrs. Wilde, I'm here on official business...to deliver this."

Mrs. Wilde accepted the card with a bemused look. When she opened it, she gasped. She read it several times in disbelief before she turned her attention back to the bunny. "This is…"

Judy smiled. "That's Nick's graduation announcement. The ceremony is next week. I thought you of all people should be there. He's never mentioned any other family except you. And though he never said as much, I'm pretty sure he'll want you to be there."

Mrs. Wilde stared at the invitation again, then looked back at her, her green eyes suddenly shrewd. "I've seen you before...and your name...you said it was…"

"Judy Hopps, ma'am." The bunny tried hard to not dwell on the fact her own bias had caused Zootopia to break out into Hell on earth for innocent predators; there were still some predators who were not happy with her. Dawn Bellwether's arrest and the knowledge that Judy - and the rest of the city - had been duped by a horrible conspiracy had eased some of the ill will. But that mistake followed the bunny everywhere she went...no matter how many times Nick assured her it no longer mattered.

"That's right," the vixen remembered, "You're the one who revealed that awful conspiracy."

"Nick helped," Judy said, relieved that the vixen didn't hold any outward ill will towards her for her mistakes. "The media didn't report that, though, no matter how hard I tried to get them to give him the attention he deserves. But that'll change soon. He's graduating from the police academy, and will be the ZPD's first fox officer. And he'll be my partner on the force."

She didn't expect the tears that suddenly sprung into the vixen's eyes. Alarmed, Judy frantically looked for a box of tissues, but Mrs. Wilde waved her off. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm just...I'm so proud of him. If what you're saying is true, I owe - _he_ owes - all of that to you."

Judy blushed. "Well, I don't know about that…"

"I do. He wouldn't have become a police officer without you. So...thank you." Mrs. Wilde sniffed. "I think I will take that tissue after all. Bless," she added when Judy held out the box. "I'm just so proud of him...I worried every day that he would get himself killed doing God knows what in those hustles and scams and that I would be at work at the hospital and suddenly get called down to the morgue…"

Judy was horrified by what she was hearing. "Mrs. Wilde...when was the last time you spoke to Nick?"

Mrs. Wilde dabbed at her eyes with the tissue before composing herself long enough to answer. "It's been seven years now. I was so cruel...we had been arguing, about his activities, and I said the worst possible thing…" She looked at the bunny, shame in her eyes. "I told him 'You're just like your father.'"

Judy frowned in confusion.

"Oh," Mrs. Wilde realized. "Yes, you probably wouldn't know...I guess Nick never told you about him, did he?"

 _That's an understatement._ "No, ma'am, I'm afraid he didn't."

"Well, I'm not surprised, then. He was never around much when Nick was little. And Redd was never an easy one to love. It wasn't always that way, you know. At first it was wonderful, but when you look at someone with rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.

"When I met him and until Nick was a toddler, Redd worked in one of the factories down by the river; they closed down before Nick started kindergarten, a lot of good mammals lost their jobs. Some went into retail, or learned a trade, many others turned to crime. Give you two guesses which one Redd chose."

Judy didn't know what to say, but she encouraged her to continue. Mrs. Wilde sighed, "I thought at first he had found some night work restocking shelves at the market or something. Until he started bringing in more money than any shop worker could see in a month, let alone a week. I found out he was running cons, defrauding innocent people. I was furious. But he assured me that it was only until he found another factory job…" she shook her head. "I should've known better. I'm ashamed to admit that I turned a blind eye to it for years. Redd obviously never did find that factory job, and why would he, when he was making more money running those cons than he ever could on the factory floor?

"It just got worse and worse, and soon it became too hard to keep it from Nick - he was always such a smart boy. He figured it out fairly young. I thought I had nipped it in the bud with telling him that what his father was doing was wrong...but every little boy looks up to and wants to be just like Dad. You must understand, Officer, I tried everything to keep Nick from going down that path, but I failed. Redd had so many near brushes with death that I was certain Nick would get himself killed, so when I said he was just like his father…"

She cut herself off and exhaled heavily, staring down at her mug of tea. Judy's mind was swirling with this new information. Now she understood why Nick never mentioned his father; why would he, in fact why would he mention his past at all if it was even remotely as bad as the rabbit was beginning to believe it to be?

"I've regretted that every day since," the vixen continued. "How could I _say_ that to him? What kind of mother says that to her own son?"

Judy leaned forward and gently put her paw over Mrs. Wilde's. "I'm sure he forgives you. He doesn't mention his past often, but when he does, and you come up, he only says positive things. Still…" Judy said. "It's so unusual...I can't imagine not talking to my parents for seven days let alone seven years." She realized too late how insensitive that must have been. If Mrs. Wilde was offended, she didn't show it.

"Redd screwed it up," she said, slowly nodding. "I should've seen him for what he was much, much earlier. It would have been better for Nick not knowing what his father was really like. But I was so convinced that having a male role model in his life was the best thing for him. I was so stupid...I was desperate for _any_ male role model, when I should have looked for a _good_ one. That's all I have left now: regrets. There is so much I wish I could take back… Not divorcing him sooner is chief among them."

Judy's ears were drooping, and she didn't know quite what to say, or even if she _should_ say anything. When she did, she surprised herself at how eloquent she sounded. "We all make mistakes. Nick is more forgiving than you think. When we first met, I… Well, _very_ long story short, I was a horrible friend to him. He keeps telling me not to beat myself up over it, but I still feel guilty about it. He's forgiven me, but I don't think _I've_ forgiven me. Sometimes I think that's harder. Nick loves you, I know he does. But maybe he hasn't called or visited or...been in contact...because he's ashamed. I don't know a lot about his past, but I know a fair bit about him. He has a few tells."

"Tells?"

"Little subconscious ticks that people do when they're nervous or excited. Sometimes when he's annoyed…"

Mrs. Wilde smiled knowingly. "The left ear twitches?"

Judy smiled. "Yup."

The vixen continued, wistfully remembering, "And when he's excited or happy about something, he wags his tail like a wolf pup."

Judy was familiar with that too. In fact, she giggled at the thought of it.

"Does he still chew his nails?" Mrs. Wilde asked.

Judy shook her head. "I kicked him of that habit. He's settled for tapping his fingers on any surface he can find...which frankly might be worse than the nail-biting. But sometimes...his ears lower to just a certain angle - same angle, each time - when he's ashamed. But when he talks about...you...his ears are always at the same angle."

Judy gave this a moment to sink in. It hung in the air around them, settling in like a fog. Then just as quickly, the vixen nodded, tears abating.

"I think I know what you mean. Aside from those ears, his eyes are only more expressive. Anytime I caught him doing something wrong, I could tell he _knew_ that it was wrong, and rather than be sorry he got caught…"

"...He was actually sorry," Judy finished. "Yeah."

Mrs. Wilde looked at her. "You seem to know him very well."

Judy shrugged. "Not as well as I think I should."

The vixen smiled warmly. "You know enough. Certainly more than most do. He must think the world of you, to trust you as much as he does. He wouldn't open up like that if he didn't."

She trailed off, staring at her mug of tea, now cooled. She cleared her throat. "You said the ceremony is next week?"

Judy nodded. "All the information is in the invitation. You'll need to bring that with you to get in; security's been understandably tight lately."

The vixen nodded, reading over the invitation again, holding it like a sacred relic. She shook herself out of her reverie, and, ever the good hostess, offered Judy a fresh hot cup of tea. Judy gently declined, stating her need to get back to work. Mrs. Wilde escorted her to the door to bid her goodbye and thanked her once again for delivering the message. Before she left, Judy turned to the vixen and said,

"Just so you know, he's got a good roof over his head. He's in a little studio apartment, but it's bigger and much nicer than mine. And the rent is reasonable. He gets three square meals a day, though I've been trying to break him off the fast food - but he's such an enabler he's got me hooked now."

Mrs. Wilde smiled knowingly. "That sounds like him."

Judy returned the smile. "He's also healthy. Before he left for the academy, I forced him to join me on my morning jog; he hates it, but I think he does it just to make me happy. Or keep me from nagging him. Either way, he gets his exercise." She paused, debating with herself, then said, "If you want, I can pick you up the day of the ceremony and give you a ride-"

Mrs. Wilde held up her paw to stop her. "Officer Hopps-"

"Please, call me Judy."

"Judy, then," she corrected herself. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think he's quite ready to see me." She paused. "I know why you're telling me all this. And I'm glad. You really are an angel, and I am so thankful that he has someone like you for a friend." She sniffed, and wiped at her eyes again. "Look at me getting weepy again. I swear I'm not like this all the time…"

"It's fine, I understand. My mom's the same way," she said. "I'm just saying, if it were me, I'd want someone to tell her all these things too. I know she's worried if I'm eating well, or getting enough sleep, or working too hard. I know she worries if my apartment isn't good enough, or if I don't have a lot of friends. And, well, you kinda remind me of her, so…"

The vixen stepped over and gently kissed her on the top of her head. "Judy Hopps, you are an angel, and never let anyone tell you otherwise." She stepped back with a warm smile - one that finally reached her eyes - and said, "Thank you...for everything."

"Any time, Mrs. Wilde."

"Helen," she corrected.

"Helen," Judy confirmed with a nod.

They smiled at each other, predator and prey, in complete understanding. Judy waved goodbye and started descending the stairs. When she looked back up, Helen Wilde was still watching from her doorway, like a mother carefully looking after her child.

* * *

 _October 2016, Two Days to Graduation Day_

Nick Wilde laid on the top bunk and groaned as he felt his vertebrae popping back into place. He sighed with momentary relief. His Three Months of Hell was almost over. He had two more days. Two days until graduation. If he didn't screw it all up first. The fox wouldn't voice his anxiety to just anyone; he had years of bottling up emotions and hiding it when things got to him. He had sworn to himself that things no longer got to him.

That was before he became acquainted with Ursula Bruin, the ZPD Academy's polar bear drill instructor.

Through every class, every training drill, every verbal dressing-down from the ursine drill instructor, the fox couldn't stop himself from thinking "how did Judy _do_ this?" After a rocky first week, he stopped asking how she managed to do anything at all. If Judy Hopps - as amazing as she was - could do any of this and graduate at the top of her class, why couldn't _he_ do it?

Of course, that was easier said than done. He was more of a sprinter than an endurance runner, always had been, so running those miles would have probably given him a heart attack if he weren't in better shape. And he'd had his tail handed to him several times in the ring. Ursula, the drill instructor (and sadist extraordinaire, as all recruits thought of her), had decided that since Hopps had handled a rhino just fine, why couldn't her fox friend handle an elephant?

Nick still had the scars from _that_ first little brush with the afterlife.

The only thing that kept him sane and focused during those three long months were his weekly calls with his future partner and - dare he say it - best friend.

" _An_ _ **elephant**_ _?"_ she'd asked.

Nick had been laying on his bed for that conversation, and held the phone up against his ear, one arm tucked under his head. "Yup. She figured if _you_ could handle a rhino…"

" _But I still got my tail handed to me the first few times I did it!"_ Judy had exclaimed.

Nick's ears had perked up and he cocked a brow. "Wait, what?"

" _Yeah, I never told you that?"_

"No! Jeez, Carrots, if I'd known, I wouldn't've felt so bad about getting pounded into the mat. Again. And again. Oh, and _again_."

He could hear the wince from the other end of the line. _"I'm so sorry, Nick. I know it's tough, but it's just the first week. You'll get through this. You've faced worse already."_

"Have I? I might need a refresher."

" _Remember how we fought off those sheep while we were trying to bring the evidence of Night Howlers to Chief?"_

"As I recall it wasn't so much 'fighting' as 'running away before they kill us'."

" _Exactly! With bigger animals, don't try to fight fire with fire; you'll lose every time. Instead, use their strength against them. You're a fox, you're smaller, and you're much more nimble: use that to your advantage. Try it next time you're in the ring."_

He did. And she had been right. For once, he didn't mind playing to the stereotypes of foxes being sly and sneaky: sly and sneaky helped him topple that elephant. The elephant would throw a punch, only to find Nick had slipped away to the adjacent corner; he threw another punch, the fox slid between the elephant's feet to the other side of the ring. He had even hopped up onto the elephant's outstretched arm, literally ran circles around his neck, and jumped out of the way just as the pachyderm's fist came up to collide with his own face. The trainer had never seen anything like it, and had commented that it "reminded her of a certain rabbit." Nick had never felt better about himself.

But he'd been a surprise for the other recruits in other respects. He was the best shot in the ZPD's history - and that was certainly no exaggeration; the fox had beaten a record that had been set over seventy years before, by a stag, of all creatures. But physical training and marksmanship weren't the only things police officers were expected to know. The recruits would take classes in criminology, legal studies, psychology, interspecies relations, de-escalation strategies, and sociology. In practical instruction, the recruits learned state and city laws, criminal investigations, patrol procedures, the aforementioned firearms and self-defense training, and even traffic control, defensive driving, and computer investigation skills.

Nick had always been good in school, and aced the classes with ease. That had not been a surprise for him. What _did_ surprise him was that Nick found that his own life experience made other aspects of the academy training a lot easier. His years bending the law to his own ethically-ambiguous ends made him a near expert in local, state and federal laws, and his years of subtle manipulation for successful cons had given him practical first-hand experience with psychology. That quick eye that had always been able to find an easy mark made investigating mock crime scenes a walk in the park. And even the computer training came easily for him.

Being a sure-shot, however, had surprised him the most.

" _Why is that a surprise?"_ Judy had asked him during one of their weekly calls.

"Why are you _not_ surprised?" he'd asked, perplexed.

" _I dunno,"_ she'd said. _"I guess I just always assumed you'd be good at something like that. You_ _ **do**_ _have much better eyesight than I do. Than most people do, actually."_

She had a point. By the time of that call, he had been in the academy for about six weeks, and was halfway through. The worst parts of Hell would arrive in the coming weeks, but for now, he would bask in the glory of something that he did better than anyone else. And at that moment, he allowed those carefully constructed walls to fall - well, not fall, exactly, he wasn't ready for Judy to know _everything_ about him, but...lower a drawbridge? Yes, he could lower a drawbridge. There was no harm in that.

"Y'know, it's funny…"

" _What is?"_ she asked.

"Promise you won't laugh."

" _Nick, come on. It's me."_ It was a good point. So he took the plunge, lowered the bridge, and explained,

"When I was a kid...my dad was never really around, so my hero back then was Robin Hood." He paused, waiting for her to laugh. She didn't. He took a deep breath and continued, "I mean, Robin was everything I wanted to be: generous, noble, trustworthy, brave...basically everything my old man was not. You'll probably think it's stupid…"

" _Nick, that's not stupid. I think it's really…"_

 _If she says sweet,_ he'd thought, _I may actually vomit. And never tell her anything again._

" _...Wonderful,"_ she finished.

He blinked. He hadn't been expecting that answer. "Seriously?"

" _Of course! And actually, knowing that, a ton of stuff just started making sense."_

"Such as?"

" _Why you suddenly stood up for me when Bogo demanded my resignation, for one. Why you didn't abandon me when you had every opportunity and reason to do so. And I think after that moment, well, be honest: you didn't just stick around to get the carrot pen, did you?"_

He fell silent. She was right. By then, by the time they'd made it to city hall, it hadn't been about that damn pen anymore. He had actually wanted to help her, and not for his own selfish reasons.

"I helped you because it was the right thing to do." He started saying that with a shrug, but as the words left his lips, he realized how that must have sounded. And Judy seemed to agree.

" _Well,"_ she'd said with triumph in her tone, _"It sounds like you're more like your hero than you thought."_

"Except for the whole 'rob the rich' thing. Somehow I don't think you'd look too kindly on that."

" _No, I'd rather you_ _ **not**_ _do that. Try and stay on_ _ **this**_ _side of the law, Slick."_

Strangely, being equated with his childhood hero made the rest of his training just a bit easier. He remembered the stories he'd read as a kit, applied the lessons, hell, even mimicked some of Robin's moves out on the obstacle course and in the shooting range. He wasn't good enough to split a bullet with another bullet (like in the famous story about the archery tournament), but hey, he'd be okay with breaking a seventy-year-old record.

Beyond the training, receiving top marks, and winning the respect of his fellow recruits, the fox could be content knowing that he wouldn't make top of his class like his friend and future partner. Top ten percent would be good enough. So imagine his surprise when the final scores were released and he was in the top _one_ percent, only the second small mammal to do that in over 150 years of ZPD history. He'd been so excited that his first thought was calling Judy right away with the news; as expected, she was ecstatic.

Maybe that phone call was the catalyst. More likely, that phone call was what made him wonder, then realize, what should have been obvious from the beginning. Being away from her for three months wasn't hard just because of the training, or because he was lonely, or because he missed his friend...he missed her because he loved her. Nothing brought him greater joy than their weekly Monday night calls - the only time in his life where he actually looked forward to Mondays. Everything he had ever done since the end of the Night Howler case, every move, every thought, every little tiny insignificant little change in himself had been to make her proud. He wanted to be worthy of her good opinion, and never slide back into old habits. Quitting those old habits cold turkey was hard, but it helped knowing he had her backing him up.

His phone started buzzing. Nick wanted nothing more than to sink into that godawful mattress and sleep, but he knew only one person would call him this late. He checked the time and the caller ID. It was ten minutes until lights out, so he would have to make it quick. He answered the call.

"Hey, Carrots," he said, making no effort to mask his fatigue.

" _Hey, Slick. How's my favorite fox?"_

"There's another fox? Bastard. How dare he take my Carrots from me?" He could practically hear her eyes rolling.

" _Har har. Listen, I know it's late, but there's something I need to ask you."_

He frowned. What could be so important that she would call this late, and not on a Monday? Not that he was complaining, mind, he was always happy to hear her voice. "Shoot."

Judy hesitated, then huffed out a breath and took the dive: _"Do you know where I can find your father?"_

Nick almost forgot to breathe. He nearly choked on air, which would have been quite an achievement. "Why...would you ask me that?" he asked, completely bewildered.

" _Well...promise me you won't get mad."_

"You went to see my mom, didn't you?"

Her silence said it all.

"And you gave her the invitation to the ceremony, didn't you?" he continued.

He heard her sigh. _"Yes…but I did it with good intentions!"_

"I know you did," he said. "But sweet little bunny girls like you don't know that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

" _Really? I thought the academy's driveway was asphalt and gravel."_

"You little smart-ass." He was actually a little proud of her.

" _I learned it from the best. And we're avoiding the conversation."_

"We're not avoiding anything."

" _Fine,_ _ **you're**_ _avoiding it. I went to see your mom, she's fine, she was happy to get the invitation, I think she's coming, and she misses you and loves you, and she's sorry for everything that happened between you and did I mention she loves you?"_

"Judy," he interrupted; if he didn't stop her now, she would probably just keep going and work herself into a fit. "I'm not mad. I'm glad Mom's doing well, and if she shows up, fine. If she doesn't, that's fine too. But how did you know her address?"

" _If I was able to get my hands on your tax returns, finding your birth certificate wasn't much harder. Did a search for your mother's name, found the address that way. I was lucky that she lived in the same place for over thirty years."_

"Yeah, she's a creature of habit." _And then some,_ he silently added. "But why ask about my dad? Wait…" he propped himself up on one elbow, "You're not thinking of inviting _him_ are you?"

" _Would that be so bad?"_

He struggled to keep his temper under control. He wasn't mad at her at all, but his anger towards his father hadn't ebbed even a little in the past twenty years. "Carrots, my dad walked out on us when I was twelve, and Mom divorced him not long after. Remember how I was when you met me? He was twice as bad back then, and I bet he's ten times worse now, wherever he is." Despite promising himself he wouldn't, the wounds were still raw, and he felt the anger building. "My father wanted nothing to do with me as a kid, so I want nothing to do with him, now or ever."

Judy was silent for a long moment, and Nick kicked himself for taking out his anger on her. He sighed. "Judy, I'm sorry. It's...it's a sore spot, still."

" _It's okay, I understand,"_ she said quietly. _"Okay, I won't look for him. But your mom…"_

"I'll be happy to see her," he admitted. "Lord knows it's been a few years, but I'll be glad to see her, even if she's not too happy to see me."

" _Nick, she'll be_ _ **thrilled**_ _to see you! She was practically over the moon when I told her you were becoming an officer! She's proud of you, I know it!"_

He smiled fondly and started to say something before he was cut off by Ursula's shouting. "Sorry, Carrots, that's lights out. I'll see you in a couple days...if I don't get kicked out first."

" _Don't even joke about that. You'll be fine. I'll see you at graduation!"_

"Yeah, you too."

He hung up and turned off his phone. There was no need to use it as an alarm, the academy was perfectly capable of doing that for him. As he curled up under the covers, practically hugging the pillow against his chest, the fox sighed and tried to calm his nerves. He would graduate...he wouldn't screw this up...he would graduate...he wouldn't screw this up…

* * *

 _Graduation Day_

For October, the weather was remarkably warm and sunny. It was just how he liked it. Nick doubted he would ever get used to the early mornings, hence the coffee cup in hand. It was actually his second cup. He was trying very hard - along with his fellow recruits - to stay awake during the ceremony while city officials and other dignitaries droned on and on with speeches that lacked originality or passion. Just as the fox began to wonder if this would be exactly like his high school graduation (which in hindsight, he would have happily skipped and just received the diploma in the mail), the other speakers sat, and a small figure stepped up to the podium.

He sat up, more alert now. He took the aviator sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on just as she began to speak.

"When I was a kid, I thought Zootopia was this perfect place…"

 _We all did,_ he thought.

"...where everyone got along, and anyone could be anything. Turns out...life's a little bit more complicated than a slogan on a bumper sticker. Real life...is messy…"

 _Like getting chased and nearly killed by a savage jaguar, or taking down former Mayor Bellwether for example. Stop it, Nick, pay attention…_

"We all have limitations, we all make mistakes. Which means, hey, glass half full, we all have a lot in common! And the more we try to understand one another, the more exceptional each of us will be. But we have to _try_..."

This was it, he realized. In just a couple minutes, it would be real. The whole thing, from meeting that little juggernaut of a bunny, to the application process, and to this exact moment in time, felt so surreal he thought for sure he was dreaming. That it had all been one hell of a hallucination and he was about to wake up, sober up, at any moment. That somewhere, somehow, something would happen to break this bubble and ruin it all.

"...So no matter what type of animal you are, from the biggest elephant, to our very first fox..."

And suddenly all eyes were on him. And they were smiling.

It was real. This was really happening. He was really here, he had really done it, he had _made_ it. He took off his sunglasses and gave Judy a wink. She beamed back at him, and suddenly, everyone and everything else melted away, and it was like she was speaking to him, and only him.

"I implore you... _try_. Try to make the world a better place. Look inside yourself and recognize that change...starts with _you_. It starts with me." She looked directly at him, he couldn't be wrong. "It starts...with all of us."

It didn't really sink in until he was face to face with her, on that stage, and she pinned that badge - good God, _his badge!_ \- to his uniform. Here he was. He had done it. He was really a police officer. And here she was...looking up at him with such pride, he half expected her to burst into tears. He knew he was ready to.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur of congratulations, city council members shaking his hand and posing for photo ops, and hearty pats on the back from his fellow recruits and new coworkers. He would have a hell of a time remembering all their names. Then in a parting of the crowd, he saw her.

Nick froze and stared. She seemed to sense someone was watching her, and she turned. The vixen's green eyes widened for a moment, then she slowly smiled. He didn't smile in return. Nick hadn't seen his mother in seven years, so he was understandably very surprised when he saw how she had aged. For the longest time, the picture he had in his head was of a vixen eternally young, always smiling, even if the smile never quite reached her verdant eyes, the only part of his appearance he'd inherited from her. From his earliest memory, she always had a sad look in her eyes, but now...now years of care and worry had etched wrinkles, added dark circles, and given her more than a few gray hairs on her muzzle.

It was also highly likely that her job as a trauma nurse contributed to her constantly-tired look, but Nick guiltily doubted that.

She smoothed out her blue dress - one he remembered her sewing years ago when he was a kit - and looked back at him expectantly, as if looking for permission to come forward.

He didn't give her permission. He didn't give her the option. Instead, he wordlessly trotted over and hugged her tightly.

Helen Wilde finally let out the joyful tears she had been holding in. Nick felt them splashing onto his shoulder, felt her shoulders heave with a soft sob and he hugged her tighter. "Hi, Mom."

She pulled back and held his face in her hands. "Seven years...seven years, and all you have to say is 'Hi Mom'?"

"Mazel tov?" he offered.

She snorted with laughter. "Still my little smart aleck."

"Yes, ma'am."

She wiped away tears with the back of her hand. "I'm so proud of you, Nicky. This is the second happiest moment in my life."

"Only the second happiest? Ouch," he teased. "Although I guess your wedding day _is_ kinda important."

She playfully smacked his shoulder, laughing. "I was talking about the day you were born, you little snot."

"Ow! Love you, too, Mom. Jeez, between you and Carrots, I'll be black and blue like my uniform."

Helen frowned. "Carrots?"

"He means me." Judy hugged him so tightly and so quickly he almost toppled over, but that little bunny was much stronger than he remembered: she even picked him up a bit and nearly crushed him with the force of that hug. When she finally let go, Nick sucked in a few breaths while the females got reacquainted.

"He calls you 'Carrots'?" Helen asked, still a little confused.

"Long story, but yes, it's a little nickname. He only calls me Judy when he's being serious about something." Judy looked good in her dress blues, Nick realized. Granted, he had spent a good amount of time admiring his own reflection that morning because _damn_ he was a fine specimen of a fox already, but now he saw the appeal of a mammal in uniform. And he was looking at a rabbit example of that appeal.

"How about a picture of you two?"

His mother's question shocked him out of his reverie. He looked back at her and he saw the knowing smile on her lips. Crap. She knew. The tell-tale looks between he and Judy confirmed it. His mother knew. And she knew that he knew that she knew. And she thought that was delicious. Helen held up a camera. "Come on, Nick. I don't have a single picture of you since you were twenty-four. Let's see that grin!"

Judy gently nudged him with her elbow. "C'mon, Slick Nick, just a couple pictures for a proud mama."

He rolled his eyes and smiled, taking a relaxed pose next to her.

"No, no," Helen said, "Get in closer, _hug_ each other, for heaven's sake, look like you're friends, or at least tolerate each other. There! Perfect. Nick, no bunny ears."

Judy scowled up at him and he quickly pulled his hand away. "No clue what you're talking about, Mother Dear."

Helen rolled her eyes. "Officer H-Judy," she corrected herself, "My son will never forgive me if you don't ham it up for the camera. Just a couple shots…"

"Can we use them as blackmail later?" Judy grinned.

"Oh my, yes," Helen said, returning the wicked grin.

Nick didn't like the looks they were giving him. But, his mother knew him only too well: he liked to ham it up when the occasion called for it. So he and Judy experimented with various poses, some silly, some not, some perfectly respectable and some perfectly relaxed. The last one, he felt, would be a classic: just the two of them, side by side, her arm around his waist, his arm draped across her shoulders, standing close and smiling wide.

He shared a look with the bunny and then shared a grin. He had done it. They had done it. He hadn't screwed this up. And by God, Nick wasn't going to do anything to screw up his chance at a new life.

* * *

 _November 2016_

He had screwed up. Never, _never_ try to drink a raccoon under the table, hadn't his old fox taught him that? He groaned, his head pounding, feeling groggy and nauseous, easily the worst hangover he could remember. He frowned. He was no lightweight by any means, but for one drink to knock him out cold? Clearly he wasn't as young as he used to be.

The fox woke up on the cold hardwood floor by the front door of the apartment, on his side and feeling the breeze of chilly fresh air coming in from under the crack at the bottom of the door. There was also a chill from the cracked open window above him, early morning light streaming in with the breeze. The fox shivered and rolled onto his stomach. His head pounded, and the nausea only seemed to get worse. He needed to get up, needed some fresh air, but his muscles refused to work. He was starting to get nervous, but he felt too sluggish to really move. It took all of his strength and willpower to push himself up on his knees.

 _Open the window_ , he told himself. _Sober yourself up._ The red fox had to grab onto the radiator and cursed when he pulled his hands away from the hot metal. It seemed the building's heat had finally been turned on overnight. About time. It may have been Sahara Square, but it still got cold at night during the winter. True, it wasn't officially winter yet, but he found as he got older that he couldn't tolerate extreme temperatures as well as he used to. But still: shivering when it was 70 degrees out? He was getting old.

The fox finally stood and struggled to open the old window. It was nearly painted stuck, but he put all his strength into unlocking it, and pulling it up. Finally it gave way with an ear-splitting screech (which did nothing to help the headache), and he shoved it up as far as it would go. He leaned forward and breathed deeply. He felt his headache start to go away, and he felt less nauseous. He still felt tired and a little disoriented, but that was likely the alcohol. He looked over his shoulder at the empty liquor bottles around the kitchen and winced. Yep, definitely the alcohol. Since when did he drink tequila?

 _Larry, right, just had to do shots, didn't he?_ He sighed and gulped down more crisp morning air, feeling better with each inhale. The fox looked back at the other occupants of the apartment, five others, all passed out. Larry, a boar and his oldest friend, lay on his couch, completely motionless.

That was when the fox realized something was wrong.

Larry's snores were loud enough to wake the dead, but he wasn't snoring. Come to think of it…

The fresh air jumpstarted his brain and the fox began to quickly take in the room around him. He had initially assumed that each of these mammals - Rich, Bill, Molly, Peggy, and Larry - had just had too many drinks and passed out. Only one of them - Larry - was an extremely sloppy drunk. Peggy, a raccoon, was a recovering alcoholic, and hadn't touched a drop in years, and wouldn't even have a drink at gunpoint. Rich and Molly, a married pair of weasels, could be hard partiers, but no matter how drunk they got, they were usually the first ones up in the morning after a party; Molly would've been making pancakes by now. And Bill...well, the skunk was drunk most of the time anyway. But for a high-functioning alcoholic who could run circles around the fox on a good day, the skunk was surprisingly immobile, currently slumped over the table, while the weasels and raccoon were splayed out on the kitchen floor like they had just dropped…

Dead.

Panic and fear seized the fox's heart. He started shaking, and with adrenaline surging through his veins, he followed the only instinct he knew: flee.

He fumbled with the lock on the door, quickly becoming disoriented again, and feeling dizzy and nauseous, which he told himself was the booze, not panic. He finally unlocked the door and threw it open and stumbled into the hallway, falling down with a heavy thud. The door across the hall cracked open and he looked up to see an armadillo watching him curiously.

 _Help_ , the fox wanted to scream. _Help me!_ But he couldn't speak. He brought his hand up to his throat and croaked. He couldn't talk! How could he explain this?

The armadillo seemed to realize something was wrong. He stepped out of his apartment, his wife and kids watching from the relative safety of their home, as the man of the house investigated. The fox reached out for him, trying to pantomime 'help!' The armadillo looked into the apartment, saw the bodies, and gasped.

"Jane, call 911!" he shouted to his wife.

The fox froze. _No_. Not the cops. He had been down this road before, he knew what would happen when the cops showed up and saw _him_ there! And now he couldn't even defend himself!

Before he even realized it, the armadillo was helping him stand, the very act making his head swim and the nausea even worse. The fox almost blacked out again, because the next thing he knew he was sitting on an unfamiliar sofa with two armadillo children staring at him.

"You okay, there, pal?"

 _You're not my 'pal', and no I'm not okay!_ He patted his throat.

"Can't speak?"

He shook his head, still feeling dizzy.

"Okay, my wife's called 911, they'll send an ambulance too. Can you at least tell me your name?"

This would be hard. He didn't want to give his name, he really didn't, but he didn't have much of a choice. His body still rebelled against him, still keeping him from holding the pencil he had just been given to write with. He couldn't speak, couldn't write...what the hell was he going to do?

He decided to try anyway.

"R-rrreee…" he croaked.

The armadillo leaned in closer to hear. "What's that?"

The fox tried again, using all the strength he had to use his voice to rasp out: "R-Redd. My name is...Redd Wilde."

* * *

One last note: The length of time between when a person applies to be a police officer and when they actually start work varies according to jurisdiction. Some places it can take just a few months, others can take well over a year. This is a universe in which humans never happened, so I can take some creative license with how the ZPD hires and trains its officers. According to the Zootopia Wiki, the movie takes place in May 2016 (assuming that the year is the same year the movie came out). I averaged that the time between Judy cracking the missing mammal case, moving back to the farm, and returning to the city by the end of the film took place over the course of a month. If Nick applied for the job right away (in June), the application process could take up to six weeks (mid-to-late July), then it's off to the police academy for three months (the 6-week application process and 3-month academy training seemed to be the median in the USA, but I could be wrong). And like most workplaces, police departments have a probationary period - here, it'll be 90 days - to see if the new officer is up to snuff and can handle the job. Hence, why the events of this story begin in roughly October/November.

Please read and review!


	2. Chapter 1

First, I want to thank everyone who read, favorited, watched, and reviewed the first chapter/prologue. I guess I still got it after all :)

 **Author's note** : Main story begins about a month after Nick has started at the ZPD. I'm not entirely thrilled with this chapter (holy exposition, Batman!), but this story needs a good background and some character development to really get the ball rolling on this. I decided when I set out to write again that I didn't want to wait months (or even over a year!) for another update, so this story is more or less "done". Parts still need to be fleshed out, but I'm constantly writing on it and want to make sure that an entire chapter is written so I have a week to edit it before posting. I want to try to update this once a week until it is finished. _Wilde Card_ won't be as long as my other fics (thank God, not sure anyone wants to see a 25-chapter monster), but I hope that it can be a good stand-alone fic on its own. Whether or not I continue to write in this fandom...eh, we'll see.

Standard disclaimer applies: I don't own Zootopia, the movie and its characters are all (c) the Walt Disney Company. No profit is being made off of this; it is all in the spirit of fun.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

 _November 2016_

Judy hit the alarm as soon as it went off at precisely 5:30 AM. The little gray rabbit in carrot-print pajamas sprang up out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and rushed into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Growing up on a farm, she had gotten used to very early mornings; 5:30 actually felt like sleeping in, and she knew her Pop-Pop would be horrified that she slept in an extra hour every morning and _still_ had time to get ready for work. But, she was back in Zootopia now, and finally had an apartment with its own bathroom and kitchen - no more microwave meals, her mother had insisted, and no more sharing a bathroom. So she bit the bullet and paid a little extra for the apartment on the other side of Bucky and Pronk's, which worked out well for all animals involved.

To her surprise, Bucky and Pronk (by now she assumed they were married) had even admitted that they missed her when she left. The oryx in particular said that she was "a pretty good neighbor." "Unlike a lot of freaks here," Bucky had pessimistically added. They were still as loud as ever, but respected noise ordinance laws. Or at least they respected Judy more.

Much to Judy's joy, the Grand Pangolin Arms had opened its doors to a few foxes. One in particular lived in a cramped studio a few floors below her. And she was about to make sure he was good and awake.

The rabbit quickly slapped two slices of bread into the toaster and dashed to her closet to grab her uniform. Dressing quickly and taking as little time as possible in the bathroom was another holdover from growing up on a crowded family farm (she now had close to 500 brothers and sisters). Though thankfully half of them had moved out to either start their own families, or focus on their careers and forgo parenthood altogether, that homestead still had over 300 rabbits there at any given time, and bathroom time - or any privacy at all - was a luxury she had never really experienced or expected. And she had never questioned any of this until moving to the city and discovering that, no, having literally hundreds of siblings was _not_ the norm.

Judy strapped on her tactical vest and caught the toast in midair as it jumped out of the toaster. She wolfed down one slice quickly, noting she was running late, and started collecting her last piece of equipment for the day. She clipped her utility belt on, grabbed the last piece of toast and her keys, and practically skipped out the front door. Since Nick started at the ZPD, she looked forward to the start of every single day of work with the giddiness of a baby bunny at Christmas.

Being with Her Fox was worth waking up at any ungodly hour of the day.

* * *

 _Bzz-Bzz-Bzz-Bzz..._

Nick blearily blinked his eyes as he stared at his phone. He glowered at it, as it by glaring he could Jedi mind-trick it into ceasing its buzzing and ringing. Still bundled up under his warm, comfy nest of blankets, the red fox was loathe to reach his arm out into the chill of the room to shut off his alarm. Oh, the temptation to hit snooze! But ten extra minutes of sleep wouldn't be enough. Besides, if he didn't get up and out of bed _now_ , he would get hell for it later.

Finally, he reached out, turned off the alarm, and fought the urge to bring his arm back into the cozy little cocoon he had made of sheets, blankets, and comforter. It was a fox thing. Or at least that was his story, and he was sticking to it. His bare arm dangled off the side of his bed, and he glared at the wall, grumbling under his breath as he willed himself to sit up. He blinked again, yawned hugely and scratched the back of his head before he gently stretched his arms and shoulders.

He glanced at the time on his phone. 5:34 AM. Time for work.

Clad only in his boxers, Nick took a deep breath and extricated himself from his little haven and padded across the floor of his tiny studio apartment ("economy studio" they had called it, but his rent check suggested anything but). First, coffee. He had never been a morning person, but he had done this enough times in the half-dark that he operated on autopilot until there was more caffeine than blood in his veins, just enough to make him feel at least a little awake.

The fox went through the motions, grooming and brushing his teeth as the coffee brewed and bagel toasted. The very act of forcing his tired, sore, aching limbs into his uniform brought out little grunts of discomfort. He looked at his reflection, pulled back his lips to check his teeth, then frowned. He was getting old. He was thirty-two, pushing thirty-three, so he was by no means _old-_ old. He had days where he even felt quite young. Until he spoke to twenty-somethings. Or worse, teenagers. Then he felt _really_ old.

"Don't even know what a floppy disk is..." he grumbled and plodded into his kitchenette for coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. He glanced at his phone again as he finished off his breakfast and gulped down the last of his coffee. _Three...two...one…_

 _Knock-knock_

 _There she is._

Nick rubbed the back of his neck and grabbed his keys. He steeled himself for the coming onslaught, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

"Morning, Sunshine!" Judy chirped with a cheeky grin.

"Ngh," he responded.

The bunny arched an amused brow. "How are you _still_ not a morning person? You got plenty of that at the academy, and an extra month working on the force. That's four months to get into the habit!"

"You ask me that every morning, and I always give the same answer. Four months can't undo three decades of sleep patterns," he grumbled as he locked up. He yawned again. "Now I know why cops are always drinking coffee."

"Nick, you _are_ a cop," she said as she skipped down the stairs to the door.

"Yeah, I think that's still trying to sink in…"

And it was. For a good twenty years or so, Nick had never had a positive relationship with the police department. When he was working cons, he always had to stay at least ten steps ahead or get arrested for fraud (which had happened once, when he was 15, but charges were later dropped for lack of evidence...and no one believed a juvenile could work such an elaborate con). When he as a kit, he grew up in a neighborhood that the cops largely avoided, who only showed up when something bad happened. There was no community outreach back then; not that there was much of it now, but it was a damn sight better than what it was.

So it stood to reason that even after a month of working with these mammals, he still very much felt like an outsider, like he couldn't really trust them. The others let their guard down around him almost immediately. He kept his own walls up, still vowing to "never let them see that they get to you." The only person on the force he felt he could really and truly trust was the little bunny who was currently leading him by his tie down the subway platform. He chuckled when she gently tugged his tie to lead him onto the subway car, and ignored the looks from the other passengers at the sight of a fox dressed as a cop being at the mercy of a little bunny dressed as a cop.

He smiled at her back. Judy Hopps was by far the best thing that had ever happened to him. He would never have gotten to where he was without her. Foxes by nature were not social creatures, so Nick had had very few close friends over the years. He was closer to Judy than any of those friends, combined. He was closer to her than he was to his own family. He trusted her, he cared about her...he loved her.

 _I, Nicholas Piberius Wilde, am in love with my best friend_ , he repeated in his head, as if he were speaking to a support group. At this point, he probably needed one. Were there support groups for unrequited love for a best friend?

He had grabbed onto a support pole as the train jolted suddenly, and then grabbed Judy to keep her from falling over. She just looked up at him with that sweet, grateful smile and quietly thanked him. He smiled back and managed to hide the disappointment when he let her go.

He had taken his sweet time in admitting to himself that he loved her. It had taken even longer to admit that it wasn't just a passing fancy, that it wasn't because they were always around each other and that was why he was fixated on her and not another fox like himself. Going away to the academy for three months had cemented it. At the graduation ceremony, when she had pinned his badge to his chest and beamed up at him with a smile that was almost too big for her tiny body, with pride sparkling in her brilliant eyes, he fought the urge to cry. Because no one had believed in him so much, so fully, so...genuinely.

If he had wondered before, he was certain of it now: he was hopelessly, head over tail in love with Judy Hopps.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, Slick."

Nick shook himself and blinked several times as he came back to reality and the present moment. They were still on the train, and the wheels began to squeal as they came into their station. "Sorry, must've zoned out."

"Well," she said, angling to get off the train as soon as the doors opened, "We still have enough time between now and roll call to get you some more coffee. Clawhauser should've brewed another pot by now."

"Bless that cheetah and all his ancestors," Nick sighed dramatically. "For he provides us with that life-giving elixir that makes all things possible."

"Nick, it's just coffee," she said with an eyeroll as they stepped off the train.

The fox theatrically gasped, "Bite thy foolish tongue, woman! That tincture you call 'just coffee' is literally - well, figuratively - the only thing that fuels me. If you opened my vein, you would get nothing but coffee. Thick, brown, coagulating caffeine..."

" _Eww…_ "

Nick grinned at her expression and fixed his sunglasses over his eyes. "You know you love me."

* * *

Judy tapped her pen against the desktop as she read over the report for their latest case. Nick sat next to her in their shared cubicle, twiddling his own pen through his dexterous fingers. He was bored, she was focused. Well, she was bored too. The dirty secret about law enforcement is that it's less about catching bad guys and solving crimes, although those are important. What no one ever says is just how much paperwork the job required.

Judy didn't mind.

Nick did. The fox wasn't the only officer to gripe about it; Keith McHorn and Elliot Wolford were not huge fans, and even the always affable Francine Trunkaby grumbled here and there about it. But paperwork was a necessary evil in their job, so all anyone could do was suck it up and get it done.

Judy glanced over at her partner, who was reviewing his own work before correcting a couple mistakes and writing down extra details. He'd been chewed out during his first week for not properly filling out his reports, and was keen not to go through that again. Bogo may have been mostly bluster, because the Cape buffalo cared very much for all his officers, but it was a right of passage to get a new hole (or several) torn by the Chief of Police.

Judy remembered her own experiences with Bogo, and not fondly. But Nick seemed to take each of them (for there had been many) in stride. The fox, in fact, had only been on the job for a month by now.

It had been a hell of a year for her. She started at the academy in early March, was hired after those three months, and moved away from home to a brand new city and brand new life. She had met Nick in May, and they had solved the Bellwether conspiracy by early June. By July, four weeks after submission, Nick's application for the ZPD had been approved and off he went to Three Months of Hell, as the ZPD so lovingly called the Academy. It was now November, and with the holidays just around the corner, Judy had been looking forward to seeing her family again.

She'd had a lot to look forward to this year. From becoming a police officer in the first place, to solving her first case. Easily the lowest point of her year had been the time between that disastrous press conference and reuniting with Nick. But she had looked forward to his first day as a police officer even more than she had looked forward to hers. Her first day had been special because she had dreamed of it since she was a girl. His first day was even better, because it meant he was starting a new life, and though she knew she had a hand in that transformation, Nick would never have passed the application process and the police academy except through his own determination.

She was proud of him. She was _so_ proud of him. She had told him, many times, and he brushed it off every time. But there was no denying the tears that came to his eyes the first time she had said it. When she asked him about it later, he admitted (after unconvincingly asserting that it was allergies) that she was the first person since his mother who had ever said that to him.

Until Judy had met her and gotten to know her, Nick had only mentioned his mother in passing, a few tidbits here and there: that he had grown up in a less-than-privileged home was made obvious by the number of times he had balked when she splurged on a latte, or a dinner out that didn't involve drive-thru. The fox was thrifty as hell, and it had been a battle to get him to upgrade from his dingy glorified-broom closet he called an apartment next to a leaky water heater (and sleeping in the bottom drawer of an elephant-sized desk) to an economical studio apartment closer to work (that just so happened to be in the same building she lived in). Judy had insisted on getting him new furniture, and a _proper_ bed from an actual furniture store, but he'd put his foot down and insisted on getting everything secondhand out of the classifieds.

His frugalness made her wonder whether or not his boast about making $200 a day was really true (although she did know of one millionaire farmer back home who wore muddy overalls and drove an old beat-up truck). Having a lot of money didn't necessarily mean a mammal would blow it all on frivolities, and Nick seemed to be of the same mind. Or maybe it was that a childhood of pinching pennies and limited means developed life-long habits that he reasoned were too useful to abandon.

Nick had let other facts out on occasion: his mother was a trauma nurse at Zootopia General Hospital in downtown, had been there for at least twenty-five years, and had started her career at Sacred Heart in Tundra Town. His love of blueberries had been ingrained in him from his mother's love of the fruit: he'd been told that she craved them during pregnancy, causing his father to travel all over the city looking for them in the middle of the night. When he was a child, blueberry pancakes were the be-all end-all best-ever breakfast in the history of the world. His mother never really cared for TV, and preferred books and cross-stitch instead. And her lasagna was The Best, with a capital B; nothing else came close. He claimed her lasagna - hell, all of her cooking - could bring world peace.

Judy had been amazed when she first met her. Given how Nick was, she expected maybe that the vixen would share his sarcasm, the same lame jokes, the same laid-back attitude. Instead, here was an aging vixen who carried herself with the poise of a queen despite the years of stress, worry, and hardship. The soft serene smile on her face rarely reached her brilliant green eyes, those same eyes Nick had undoubtedly inherited from her. Nick was more than happy to talk about his mother, but as for himself, he was still, in many ways, an enigma.

"Hey Carrots, you got a pen? I'm out of ink."

"Huh?" Judy jumped a little, then blushed when she realized he had caught her daydreaming.

He smirked. "A pen. Y'know, it's this thing you use to make marks on this thing called paper…"

"I heard you, smart-ass. Give me a second." She reached over to open the closest drawer and hopped onto the desk to rustle through the contents. Whereas her partner had a place for everything, which was all over the place, Judy preferred to be perfectly organized at all times. Their desk drawers were testament to that. "Blue or black?"

"Black. Thanks," he deftly caught it one-handed when she tossed it to him. He went back to filling out his form.

Judy sat back down and glanced at him a moment before returning to her own work.

 _He did look quite good in his uniform_. She froze for a moment, gripping her pen a little tighter. This wasn't the first time that rebellious thought had surfaced. It wasn't the first time she had thought he was handsome. Hell, she had noticed the moment she had met him. He was quite handsome for a fox. _For a fox, hah!_ For a...anything! Nick was hot, end of story. And her ears tinged a little pink at the thought. Despite her initial feelings early on in their partnership, despite her private assertions that no-way-no-how would she _ever_ like a scoundrel like him.

Damn him for being so damn charming.

But she had gotten him back, oh, yes, yes she did. Sure, blackmailing him into helping her find Mr. Otterton was, strictly speaking, not very legal or ethical, but his _face_ when she confronted him about his tax evasion. That oh-so-sweet "oh shit" expression when he knew he was screwed. She couldn't help but grin, and add mockingly, "It's called a hustle, sweetheart." _Damn_ , that had felt good! Of course, Finnick's validation that "she hustled you _good!_ " helped immensely.

Granted, Nick didn't make it any easier. Shocking her farm-girl sensibilities at the naturalist club, testing her patience at the DMV, and, oh yeah, _getting kidnapped_ by a bunch of polar bear gangsters… By the time they were about to be iced by Mr. Big, she had long ago regretted dragging him into this with her, even blamed him for causing her more trouble than she needed. But that wasn't fair to him. She could've just let him go after the DMV, she should have. A deal was a deal after all. He had helped her, and, sure, fine, she was a sore loser, but that was no reason to blame him for getting her into a mess she had created.

Fate, or rather Fru-Fru, was thankfully on her side, and after reaching out to - and escaping - Mr. Manchas, Nick could have run away and left her for dead. But he didn't. That should have been the first sign that he wasn't as heartless as he pretended to be. The second and most notable sign was when he stood up for her in front of Bogo, called the Chief out for setting her up to fail, and publicly saying in front of Bogo and the other officers that " _we_ have a missing mammal to find." We. _We._ Judy couldn't have been the only one in that gondola who felt the seismic shift in their relationship. He ceased being just another shifty fox. Nick was...a person. An individual with feelings, fears, hopes and dreams, just like anyone else, but had given up trying to change the world.

That had hurt. Hearing him tell her about his short-lived stint as a Ranger Scout, something she knew was still a raw, painful memory for him, made her see the full horror of life as a predator, when all along, she thought prey like herself were the vulnerable ones. But there he was, a fox, her natural enemy, letting down his walls and showing her a vulnerability she had never seen before. She was used to seeing vulnerable, emotional bunnies, but for a predator - for a _fox_ \- to show her that side...it meant he trusted her. What else could it mean? He wouldn't have told her about that painful episode in his life if he thought she would use it against him.

Looking back, she realized that was when she had started to care about him.

Over the next ten hours, he had shown an uncanny natural ability to think like a detective, which impressed her even more. She had actually meant it when she'd told him he'd make a good cop. He had joked and laughed it off, but she had meant every word. And if they solved the case, she would make damn sure he became one, or at least tried. Before that disastrous press conference, she had made it her own mission to make sure he had an employment application in his hands before taking to the podium. Anywhere she went, she wanted him by her side every step of the way.

And she had nearly ruined it.

She had nearly ruined everything.

Zootopia had already been simmering with interspecies conflict, but her comments took the lid off the pot, and it boiled over. Judy had never seen such hate before, and it scared her to think that these people - prey like herself - had been filled with such fear and hatred that they would turn on their friends and neighbors like that.

Nick had turned on her, too, he had turned his back on her. And she deserved it. Because as bad as things got in the city, which she knew was all her fault, she felt even worse knowing that her words had hurt _him_.

The hardest part, aside from admitting she had been wrong about the "night howlers" and living with her damaging words every day, was apologizing. Finnick hadn't wanted to tell her where Nick was. He had every right to be angry with her. She pleaded with him, apologized, begged for his forgiveness, almost to tears, until the tiny fox got uncomfortable enough to sigh, rub his eyes and say, "Fine, there's this old stone bridge…"

And when she found Nick, her heart pounded against her chest: running on adrenaline, excitement to solve the case, but there was fear, too. Fear of approaching him, not because she was afraid of him. She was afraid that he hated her, loathed her, would curse her out and tell her to go to hell. And she would cry, because she deserved everything he could throw at her. So she found him, she said her piece, and waited for his answer.

Seven words. Seven words, recorded on the carrot pen she'd forgotten she had given him: _"I really am just a dumb bunny."_ Rewind. Press Play. _"I really am just a dumb bunny."_ And then he looked back at her, gave her that soft, closed-lip smile, with a warmth in his eyes she had never seen before. "Don't worry, Carrots, I'll let you erase it. In 48 hours."

He had forgiven her. She wanted to sob even harder. He had forgiven her! If she had been in a less emotional state, she would have relished that hug just a little longer, clutched his shirt in her paws, buried her face in his chest, closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. His smooth voice had echoed inside his chest, and his heart, steadily beating, soothed her anxious nerves. This felt right. Standing there, in his arms, listening to his steady breathing and his soothing words...if they hadn't had a crime to solve, she would have been content to stay like that forever.

She blushed at the next memory. The museum. The pit. The blueberry. Taking the Night Howler serum out of the gun had been Judy's idea, putting blueberries in its place had been Nick's. And Nick was one hell of a good actor. Even though she knew he was acting, she felt...well, not fear, but it was a strange tingling sensation, a feeling in the pit of her stomach, a buzzing in her head. When he closed his jaws around her throat, her scream was genuine - she hadn't expected him to be so fast, it had taken her by surprise. And so had how good his body felt on top of hers.

She had brushed that off as adrenaline, but when he left for the academy, she realized what it had been, what it had always been. _I, Judith Laverne Hopps, am in love with my best friend._

She glanced back at the fox, who had wrapped up his reports and was now neatly stacking the pages before stapling them. Perfectly nonchalant, perfectly at ease, ears laid back as they always were. Utterly unflappable, even now, even in emergencies, he always appeared calm, cool, and composed.

That just made him even sexier. And the uniform only added to his sex appeal.

 _What is_ _ **wrong**_ _with you?_ she chastised herself. Sure, he'd been attractive before the academy. But then he came back...with _muscles._ Damn, those arms and shoulders alone…

She jumped a little when his hand pressed against her forehead. Her nose twitched as he stared into her eyes.

"Carrots, are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, just fine!"

"Uh-huh," he said, not convinced. "You don't feel like you have a fever, but you look flushed, and your eyes look kinda glassy. Should I take you to see Mom?"

Judy emphatically shook her head. The last thing she needed right now was Helen Wilde giving her the once-over when it was likely the vixen already knew about Judy's feelings...and didn't seem to mind. Judy offered him another smile, "Really, I'm fine! Just a little...tired…" she shrank away when he moved in close, his face mere inches from her own. He was so close to her she felt his body heat emanating off his clothes, his scent filling her nostrils, his lips barely above hers…

"Tired?" he asked in a teasing tone. "Perhaps...or maybe you're blushing because you've been a bad bunny and thinking of a certain male instead of finishing your repo-"

"My report!" she gasped and jumped back, leaving the fox to fall forward into the space she had just occupied seconds before. Judy quickly finalized everything, set it to the best shape she could, and prepared to hand it into the Chief on her way out. "How much time do I have?"

Nick picked himself off the floor, brushing lint and random animal hair from his uniform. "Shift ended ten minutes ago. I already handed mine in, told the Chief that Little Miss Mary Poppins needed a couple more minutes to make it 'practically perfect in every way'."

"You did not."

"I did. He told me to shut up or he'd give me parking duty again."

"Sounds about right." She grabbed her things and her report. "I'll drop this off and meet you at the entrance. Thanks, Nick!" She ran before he could stop her. She really didn't want to deal with his line of interrogation. Her secret pining was one thing, but she knew she couldn't lie to him forever. He would only buy the "crush on an imaginary rabbit" for a short while, but he was too smart to buy her subterfuge for long. She had hustled him "good" once, and had several other successful hustles under her belt, but he was just too damn savvy…

"Chief!" she burst into his office just as the Cape buffalo was about to walk out. "My report! It's not my best work, I know, but-"

"It's a police report, Hopps, not the next Great Animalian Novel," Bogo said with an eyeroll. "Let's see it."

Judy handed it over. He opened the file and glanced at it without taking out his reading glasses. He closed the folder. "It's up to your usual standard, as expected. Now go home."

She knew better than to argue. She saluted and trotted off to join Nick, who was chewing the fat with Clawhauser at the reception desk.

"Twenty bucks says they're going on a date," she heard Nick say. She felt her heart skip a beat, and she slowed her approach to get a gauge on the conversation.

Clawhauser was already giddy. "Only twenty? Fangmeyer's got fifty on them, and ten bucks that _he_ confesses first."

Nick snorted. "I don't see that happening. Fine, twenty on the date, and twenty on both of them coming in tomorrow smelling like the other."

"Nick!" Judy gasped in horror as she got closer. "Are you betting on our coworker's love life?!"

Completely unapologetic, he counted out two twenty dollar bills and handed them to the rotund cheetah. "Well, betting on sports is against the law, and I gotta get my kicks somehow."

"Who are you even betting on?" Judy asked, still abhorring the whole thing, yet voyeuristically curious.

Clawhauser leaned over and whispered, "Wolford and Lupez. Date tonight. I had no idea Wolford was even gay."

Judy huffed and rolled her eyes. "He's not. Lupez is a female."

Both males froze. They looked at each other, then at Judy, then at each other again before Nick asked, "By Lupez...we're talking about the white wolf, right?"

"Yes."

"Ollie Lupez is a she-wolf," he said to confirm it.

Judy smirked. "Yes, _she_ is. And _Olivia_ just happens to have a very deep voice for a female. And I've seen her in the locker room enough times to know that as fact." She turned to Clawhauser and asked, "How did you _not_ know?"

The cheetah had the presence of mind to blush. "Well, like you said, he - I mean _she_ \- has an unusually deep voice...for a lady. And she doesn't talk much, so no one really knows a whole lot about her…"

"Plus she's not exactly…" Nick fought for the right word. "...feminine."

"Though neither is Fangmeyer," Clawhauser mused out loud, now that he thought about it, "But she _does_ put on eyeshadow every now and then."

" _Fangmeyer_?" Nick asked, and froze again when the tigress in question rounded the corner and perked her ears up when she heard her name. The stunned fox was clearly examining the tigress for any outward signs of femininity. And when she caught on, she sighed heavily.

"You had no idea, did you?" she asked him. In fairness, tigers and tigresses looked very similar, so unless they were dressed in traditionally-gendered outfits, it would've been hard to tell. Judy had known from her first day that Fangmeyer was a tigress, but strangely, none of the other officers either knew, or if they knew, didn't seem to care.

Judy smirked and hopped over to stand at the tigress's knee. "He didn't know about Lupez, either."

Fangmeyer rolled her eyes and opened up her wallet, extracting a twenty and holding it out to the bunny. "Fine, you called it."

Nick was aghast. "You get on my case about betting on love lives, but you collect money on guessing genders? Isn't that hypocritical?"

"Isn't it rude to just assume my gender?" Fangmeyer said with a mock glare. "Or that I'm a lesbian?"

Nick hesitated. " _Are_ you…?"

"I'm married. To a male tiger. And we have three kids," she growled.

Judy wondered, "Why do people always assume female cops are lesbians?"

"It was before your time, honey," Fangmeyer said. "And Benny? Raise my fifty to seventy."

Clawhauser took out a notepad and marked it down. "Wanna add something else? Wilde here placed twenty on them coming in tomorrow smelling like each other…"

"We should go," Judy said quickly, grabbing Nick by the tie and began leading him to the door. She made it only a couple paces before her advanced hearing picked up the tigress whispering to the cheetah: "Still nothing on those two?"

"Not a thing," the cheetah sadly said.

"Damn. Fine, raise my twenty to thirty, odds on him confessing first."

Judy froze and Nick bumped into her. She heard Fangmeyer stifle another curse: "Crap, did she hear me?"

"You okay, Carrots?"

Nick hadn't heard. At least she hoped not. "Just tired," she said. "I think I just want to go home and veg on the couch."

"You want me to join you?"

 _No! Yes! Damn it! Choose one!_

"If you like." She inwardly winced. _What kind of answer was that?!_

Nick's response was cut off when they heard a loud scuffle coming from the entrance to the lobby. Disruptive suspects were pretty common, and happened on such a regular basis that no one really batted an eye. But this time Nick froze. Judy frowned at him with concern, but her ears perked up when she heard the details. Like any other suspect in custody, this one was loudly professing his innocence. But it was the insistence in his voice, the conviction in his words, that made her wonder…

Officers Wolford and Lupez escorted a handcuffed red fox between them. The fox struggled and thrashed in their grip, and Wolford, who was already a pretty serious guy, looked stony-faced and ready to snap.

"I didn't do it!" the fox was shouting. He was slim, with scruffy dark red fur, and a little gray fur on the muzzle betraying his middle age. He tried to struggle again, but Lupez dug her claws into the fox's shoulder to keep him still as they walked him to the holding cells. "I didn't do it! You have to believe me! Officer, please!"

The fox's eyes darted around the lobby looking for someone, anyone, to come to his aid. Then he froze, staring slack-jawed in Judy's direction. She felt Nick stiffen next to her, paws clenched into shaking fists. That was when the bunny realized who the handcuffed fox was, and that he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at…

"Nick?" he asked, dumbfounded. The two lupine officers paused long enough to shoot a questioning glance at Nick, who stood stock-still, a stricken look on his face. Judy noticed it too. She noted how tense he suddenly was, and how his expression slid from shock right into indifference. Nick tore his gaze away from the other fox and crossed the lobby without even looking at him again.

"Nick...Nick, I know that's you. Nick, please!" the fox pleaded as the wolves kept walking. Lupez looked over her shoulder at the vulpine officer, who was actively ignoring everyone else in the lobby.

Judy's heart nearly stopped when the fox in custody suddenly shouted: "Son! Officers, please, that's my son! Let me talk to - Nick! Nick, _please_!" They walked him through the door to the holding cells, and when the door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoed across the now silent lobby.

Judy looked around and saw visitors and officers alike staring at the fox in uniform, who was casually and visibly ignoring the looks, the whispers that had started to buzz about him. Judy could hear a few of them, but it was one worried look from Clawhauser that made her gently nudge his arm.

"Hey, Nick…"

"I think I'll hit up the diner tonight," he said, checking his the time on his phone. "I don't have food at home, but I can go grocery shopping tomorrow."

"Nick…"

"You're free to join me, and you can veg out after. But I've got plans for tomorrow night; McHorn invited me to play poker with a few of the guys."

" _Nick_ ," she said firmly.

He suddenly turned on his heel and hissed, "What do you want me to say?"

"Is that…?" He looked like the fox in the wedding portrait, but she had to be sure.

"Yes, he really is my dad," he said softly, with a touch of a growl in his throat. "Though why he thinks I'm going to help him-" He stopped himself, staring down at the floor as he became momentarily lost in his thoughts before he turned and walked out the door.

Feeling protective of him, Judy looked around to glare at everyone, as if to say 'Mind your own business!' The glare subsided when she saw the looks of concern on their coworkers' faces, and even a glance over her shoulder, up in in the mezzanine, Chief Bogo watched them leave. He was too far away for her to read his face, but she bet it wasn't much different than anyone else's. She too turned away and followed him out the door.

Once they were outside, Judy put her hand on Nick's arm. "You don't have to say anything, but I just want you to know-"

"Carrots-"

"I'm worried about you," she finished. "And I want you to know that I'm here for you."

"I know," he said quietly. "But right now, I don't want to talk about it."

* * *

All through the train ride to the diner, and throughout their dinner, Judy kept her promise and didn't bring up the subject of his father's arrest. Nick, normally so ebullient and energetic, was unusually quiet and subdued. He made only light conversation, and when his food arrived - an omelet with the works, and the cheesy hashbrowns this particular diner was known for - he ate robotically, taking no real pleasure out of the experience. Judy likewise picked at her salad and quietly ate her soup and sandwich.

About halfway through their meal, Nick's phone rang. They had made a promise to each other that cell phones would never come between them during mealtimes, so at every restaurant, the phones were on the table. Currently, Nick's was ringing and vibrating across the surface. He checked the caller ID and sighed.

"It's Clawhauser."

"Aren't you going to answer?" Judy asked.

Nick glanced at her, then wordlessly picked up and answered. "Hello?"

" _Nick! Hey, glad I caught you...is now a good time?"_

"You're calling about Redd."

" _Well...yeah, actually. I just got done talking to Wolford and Lupez - which you totally called it on the date, Wolford was wearing some nice cologne - and they told me why they brought him in. I'm_ _ **technically**_ _not supposed to say anything, but...you're a friend, and I thought you should know."_

"Know what?"

" _So…"_ Clawhauser said hesitantly, _"No one told you yet? You don't know?"_

"Don't know what?" Nick asked, starting to get a little irritated.

With a heavy sigh, Clawhauser said, _"Your dad's been arrested for murder."_

Nick blinked. Only Judy knew him well enough to see him begin to shake for an entirely different reason. "I see," was all he said. The fox stared down at the table for a moment, and for just a moment, Judy saw his walls come down. He was very good at hiding his true emotions, his true thoughts and feelings. But now, she was certain anyone and everyone could see it.

"I guess I'll find out more tomorrow," he said. His usual joviality was gone, and for the first time, he looked as expressionless as Wolford usually did. "See you in the A.M., Benny." He hung up.

Judy paused, not sure what to say. Nick set his phone aside and returned to his food, his appetite completely absent now. The silence was killing her. She had heard the entire conversation, and as much as she wanted to comfort him...what could she say? Nick hadn't seen his father in twenty years, so Mr. Wilde the Elder was practically a stranger to him. What could be going through Nick's mind? Right now he was shoving the last of his dinner into his mouth, and from her perspective, was trying really hard to not to throw up. He managed to swallow it down and sat back in his seat, staring at the table.

Judy opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. She had already told him she was there if he needed someone to talk to. Pushing the issue - which she really wanted to do right now - wouldn't help, it might make him close himself off even more. But the bunny hated to leave things like this to fester. It may have been simplistic, but it was always better to get things out in the open rather than bottling it up.

"I know what you're thinking," Nick abruptly said.

Judy set her fork down. "Okay. What am I thinking?"

"You want to talk to me about it, but I don't want to talk about it."

She paused, then shrugged. "Okay, then we won't."

He finally looked up at her, for the first time since they sat down. "That's it? Just 'okay' and leave it at that?"

"Pretty much. Look, you said you didn't want to talk about it, and I'm respecting your wishes. I think you _should_ talk about it, but I'm not going to twist your arm." _Unless that's exactly what you want me to do._ Judy had a sneaking suspicion that Nick was the kind of mammal that needed a good kick to get going, and that right now he was feeling conflicted and lost, not sure where to turn or who to turn to. So it was taking all of her strength to fight her instinct to tell him what to do.

Finally she cleared her throat, deciding to change the subject, and said, "It's not too late. We should at least swing by the store to get you something for breakfast."

Nick only shrugged and nonchalantly fished out his wallet to pay for the food. He threw back her earlier noncommittal answer: "If you like."

Judy looked away from him, her ears drooping. She finished off her salad in silence. When the server brought the check, Nick left a stack of bills on the tray and got up to leave. Judy felt her heart constricting, and tears rushing to her eyes. This was the second time he had left her without saying good-bye.

* * *

I had to poke fun at the inconsistencies with naming ZPD officers, and the initial confusion. For example, I initially thought Fangmeyer was the white wolf, then the Zootopia Wiki stated it was a tiger...or rather tigress. Looking at stills from the movie, you can actually see her wearing eyeshadow. Well play, Disney, well played. It got me thinking that no one really knows who the white wolf really is, and I figured, hey, why not make it a she-wolf? Women are underrepresented in law enforcement to begin with, and Judy, Fangmeyer, and Francine certainly can't be the only females on the force.

I know a lot of fics I've read on here have office pools debating or guessing who's dating who, time and date of love confession, etc., and it was too juicy to not write about. Yes, there is some shipping here; I personally love the idea of them together, but there won't be romance in this story. For now, they remain good friends.

I hope you enjoyed this week's chapter. As always, please read and review!


	3. Chapter 2

Usual disclaimers apply: Zootopia is (c) the Disney Company, and this is not created for profit...all in the name of good clean fun.

I decided to give you guys a longer chapter this time, and give Redd a little more screen-time (so to speak). I hope you enjoy it.

As always, please read and review!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

At 8:45 that night, Judy laid on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, her iCarrot phone clutched in her paws. Vegging on the couch had lost its appeal not long after she got home from the diner, and as much as she wanted to fall asleep, she couldn't. Her brain wouldn't let her. She checked the alarm clock next to her bed: 8:46 PM.

Judy sighed through her nose, set her phone down on the nightstand and picked up one of the stuffed animals she had brought from home: the brown floppy-eared bunny toy with the ZPD Junior Officer sticker on the front of his overalls. She gently rubbed her thumb over the faded, cracked sticker, but the toy brought her just a little comfort.

Judy turned over onto her side, looking at the other stuffed toys. One stood out from the others, and she smiled fondly. The stuffed fox had been a gift from Nick. He'd meant it as a joke, of course, after he had given her more than just a little ribbing for the huge brood of stuffed animals that covered her bed. He felt it was "missing a fox", which now that it was finally there, sticking out like a big russet-furred island in a sea of tan and gray, Judy had to agree. She had snuggled up with that fox the night after she got it. Judy's dreams that night revolved around the idea of snuggling with a different fox entirely...and it didn't seem so ridiculous when she really thought about it.

Judy smiled at the memory, and reached out to cuddle this fox as well. She held him tight against her chest and sighed, curling into a ball.

Nick's behavior after seeing his father again was unexpected and alarming. The fox she had eaten dinner with just a couple hours before was not the same sweet (yet sarcastic) fun-loving, joke-cracking, laid-back fox she had come to know and love. Or, well, she thought she had known him. Today just proved that she knew less about him than she thought, and that she was fooling herself for thinking she knew him at all just because he lowered his walls on just a couple occasions.

But he didn't just _leave_ without so much as a "see you later, Carrots"...the last time he had done that, they hadn't spoken to each other for weeks, when she was certain he hated her. And tonight he just _left_ her there, sitting in that diner booth all alone, barely holding in the tears because she couldn't figure out what she did wrong. Her first instinct was to run after him. But he was her friend, and she had already told him she was there if he wanted to talk. But she had to know what she had done to make him so mad at her. And whatever it was, she needed to apologize. Now.

The bunny checked her phone again. 9:21 PM. She had sent the first text around 7:30, after she left the diner. She just wanted to check in and see how he was. He never replied. She called him, and it went straight to voicemail. After she had left him a voicemail, expressing that she was sorry (though she didn't know why she was sorry), she sent him another text. And another. And another. He still hadn't called. Not even a text. She had gone downstairs to his apartment to check on him. They each had a spare key to the other's place, in case of emergencies, so she had let herself in. He wasn't home, and there had been no proof that he had ever come home. She quickly texted him, _"Call me when you get home. I'm worried. -J"_

She never heard back, and she was getting worried. Actually, she was long past worrying; she was frantic. He wasn't anywhere to be found, and she had checked his usual places, and even called Finnick. Not even the fennec knew where to find him, and Finnick knew Nick better than anyone. Judy looked at her phone again. Should she message him again?

Her phone suddenly dinged and she shot up in bed to grab it. It was a text from Nick.

"Oh thank god," she breathed a sigh of relief. She opened up the text:

" _Went to visit Mom. Staying overnight. I'll meet you at the precinct in the morning. -N"_

His mom, he went to visit his mom. Of course he did! She laughed a little at how ridiculous she was being. His father was arrested for murder. Helen was Nick's mother, and had been married to Redd for fifteen years. If there was anyone in Zootopia who could offer him solace, surely the Helen Wilde could.

* * *

"Do you think he's guilty?"

Nick and his mother sat at the small dining table, sipping decaf coffee and chamomile tea, respectively. Helen dunked her teabag a couple times before extracting it, gently squeezing the water out, and setting it on the saucer. She had a tea set that had been her mother's: sage green with painted ivy delicately enameled on the perfect white porcelain. Nick remembered admiring the china when he was a kit, when bringing out "Granny's Cups" was for special occasions only. They came out for his tenth birthday, they came out for his eighteenth birthday, and his mother had allowed him to drink Irish coffee out of them when he turned twenty-one; he didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd had his first drink long before he hit that milestone age.

Finding out Redd was charged with murder wasn't exactly a special occasion, but Helen Wilde was nothing if not pragmatic. The china meant good memories, safe places, and both of them needed some solace. It was her habit to make tea when times were stressful, or when she had company; Nick hated tea, always had, so she kept coffee around, just for him.

Helen sighed and stared into her tea as if it held all the answers. "I don't know, honey. Your father is many things...but I have a hard time seeing him as a murderer."

"Yeah, me too." He took a sip from his cup and set it down on the saucer. He studied the design of the painted leaves and vines again, even though he had seen them so often, it was like seeing them for the first time, every time. It seemed like there was something new every time he saw them.

"Granny never liked him, did she?" he asked.

"My mother? No." Helen took a sip of tea and held the cup in her hands. "No, she never cared for him. But then, his mother never quite liked me. She thought I wasn't good enough for her son."

Nick snorted and started to chuckle. Helen slowly smiled, but said nothing more. They fell into silence again. Nick glanced over his mother's head at the pendulum clock on the wall. He remembered it from his Granny's house: it chimed every quarter hour, and was two minutes away from chiming 10:00 PM. "I should get some sleep."

"Hmm. I wonder if Judy's asleep yet."

Nick glared at his mother. She glared back at him. The foxes stared each other down before Nick finally caved to Helen's practiced Mom Look.

"Call her," she ordered.

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

He paused, then his ears pressed back against his head. "Either?"

She calmly set her teacup down. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde, that girl is worried sick about you and so help me, if she texts you _one more time_ asking you to call her, I will march you right back to her door by your ear, and you know I would!"

He held up his hands in a placating way. "Mom, it's late, I don't want to bother her."

"What makes you think she's even sleeping?" She glared at him. "She loves you, Nicky, if only you give her the chance."

He didn't say anything to answer that. Instead he looked at Judy's last text, and then read the others she had sent in quick succession since he left the diner. Each one became more and more frantic as the hours ticked by, and he could read the panic and despair in every character, even the punctuation marks. He glanced back at the clock as it chimed the hour, and realized his mother was right. Judy normally kept the early-to-bed-early-to-rise routine, so if she was sleeping, he would be disturbing her.

However, he realized with no small measure of guilt, if the tables were turned, he would probably be frantically texting and calling her, and getting more and more worried when he didn't hear back.

He sighed and prepared to press the call button - played chicken with it, in fact, until Helen's glare became far too dangerous - when another call came in. He checked the caller ID and frowned in confusion. "It's Finnick…" he accepted the call. "Hello?"

" _Yo, Wilde, what's good?"_

"Finn, what're you doing calling this late?"

" _For real? I'm callin' as a courtesy, an' you gotta be like that? Where you at, anyway? You ain't at home, and Judy's been callin' me askin' for you and I can't tell her where the hell you are, so start talkin', fox._ "

Nick winced. He had no idea Judy knew Finnick's number, or that they even spoke outside of the occasional greeting when they ran into each other out in public. To his knowledge, they never spent much time together. And yet, curiously, in the time since Nick left for the police academy to his graduation, Finnick had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on Judy for him...and had become unexpectedly protective of her. The small fox treated Judy as a much younger sister, and like any protective older brother, if someone hurt his 'lil sis, someone was gonna get cut.

Nick groaned and guiltily asked, "How many times has she called?"

" _Twice. You better hang up this phone and call her back before I come over there-"_

"You don't even know where I-oh for cryin' out loud, Mom!" he griped when he caught his mother furtively texting under the table. Helen looked up, the picture of innocence when she set her phone down on the table. "Yes, dear?"

Nick sighed. "Never mind...yes, Finnick, I'm at my mom's place. I...didn't feel like being alone tonight."

" _So you sleepin' on your mom's couch instead of the bunny's bed? You got problems, man."_

Nick growled. "I'm hanging up…"

" _Wait, wait, okay? Y'know I do it outta love, man. Besides, Helen'll kill me if I don't read you the riot act."_

"I believe it," he replied, eyeing his mother, who was gently blowing on her tea and calmly drinking it. "Look, I'll call Judy now, okay? Mom will be my witness - because if I don't, I think she'll smother me with my own tail."

"I will do no such thing!" she protested.

" _Yeah she will,"_ Finnick warned. _"You better do what she says. She brought you into this world, she'll take you out of it."_

Helen leaned forward to ask, "Ask him if he's eaten anything. Invite him over."

Nick held the phone away from his ear. "Why? So _both_ of you can get on my case?"

"Of course not," she said innocently. "I still have lasagna in the freezer, and I need two hungry foxes to help me eat it all."

" _Hold up,"_ Finnick shouted. _"Did she say-"_

Nick sighed again, and brought the phone back to his ear. "Yes, she has lasagna. Where are you anyway?"

" _Sahara Square, about twenty minutes from you. Is it_ _ **her**_ _lasagna?"_

"Sure is," he answered after his mother nodded in affirmation.

" _I'll be there in ten."_

"Wait, don't-!" he slumped back when he got a dial tone in response. "...don't break the speed limit. Damn it," he swore as he set his phone down. A few short months ago, he wouldn't have cared, but now that he was a police officer, he had to have _some_ semblance of responsibility, even if that meant reminding old friends to follow the law. Helen reached out and patted his paw as she stood to cross the kitchen.

"I'll turn on the oven. Oh, and Nicholas?"

He knew what she was going to say before he even asked. "Yes, Mother dear?"

Her tone was crisp, clear, and as soft as an anvil covered in cotton balls: "Call. Her. Now."

Nick grumpily picked up his phone and pressed the call button before he could chicken out. Now that it was ringing, he felt a churning in his gut that he couldn't explain.

Judy picked up on the first ring.

" _Nick!"_

"Hey Judy."

She fell silent, then ventured to ask, _"Are you okay? I mean, everything's_ _ **not**_ _okay, obviously, just I want to know if_ _ **you**_ _are okay, if you're doing alright because I tried calling you and texting you and you never answered and I even went to your apartment and knocked and even let myself in with the spare key you gave me only you weren't home and it didn't look like you came home at all after dinner and I was worried something had happened to you, so I called Finnick and he didn't know and I don't have your mom's number…"_

Nick felt his mother's glare on his back, and if that had not been enough to guilt him, Judy's frantic response made him feel even worse.

" _Judith_!" he shouted to interrupt her frenzied rant. He exhaled heavily. "I'm fine...or as fine as I can be under the circumstances. Mom's fine, too. Finnick just called me to tell me you called him, so now I'm growing a pair and calling you back." He paused. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't've pushed you away like that."

" _Just call me if you're not going to be home,_ _ **please**_ _,"_ she pleaded. _"I thought something horrible had happened to you!"_

"What, you're worrying about scruffy ol' me?" he lamely joked; even he knew it was a lame attempt at humor, but he wasn't in any mood right now. "Look, I just couldn't face being alone tonight...and don't get me wrong, I like having you around, I like being around you, I'm grateful I've got you in my corner…"

" _But…?"_

"But I don't want to be pitied." Behind him, he heard the unmistakeable sound of his mother slapping a hand to her forehead. That was how he knew he had said something incredibly stupid. "Wait, no! That came out wrong-"

Judy sniffed.

 _Oh, hump me,_ he thought. "Judy, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm an ass, go ahead and call me that. Call me an ass."

" _I can't do that,"_ she sniffed, trying not to cry. _"That would be an insult to asses everywhere."_

It took Nick a minute to realize she was joking. And he smiled, despite the fact it was a pretty lame joke. "Har har," he sarcastically replied.

" _Thanks, I'll be here all week,"_ she said, sounding like she'd gotten her tears under control. If she was making an effort to joke with him, she was probably feeling better. _"I just...I was really worried. Promise you-"_

"I will never do something so stupid ever again," he finished. "I'd say 'scout's honor', but...well, you know." He paused. "I...honestly don't know where to go from here. Usually Mom would make a cup of tea by now, but I don't have any handy."

" _It's fine. I'm just glad you're okay. I'm not mad, Nick. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."_

"Yeah...I'm still trying to figure that out myself." He finally looked over his shoulder at his mother. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was giving him one of her looks: the kind of look that may as well have been telepathy, because it meant only one thing. Nick returned to his call: "Hey, I know it's late, but...Mom's heating up the oven for Finnick to have some lasagna-"

Helen opened the freezer and pulled out another Tupperware box, this one filled with what looked like…

"-and she's got what looks like vegetarian lasagna, too." He gave her a suspicious glare; the vixen only smiled smugly. "I know it's late and we both have to be up early, but-"

" _I'll be right over,"_ Judy said.

"Bring an overnight bag, dear!" Helen said loudly before Judy hung up.

Nick stared at his phone for a moment, then he turned to look at his mother. "I know what you're doing."

The vixen busied herself with setting the two types of lasagna in the oven to warm up. She set the timer and turned back to look at him. She still had that smug smile on her face. "You know you love me."

* * *

The first time Judy had seen Helen Wilde's home, the apartment was cold, heart-breakingly empty, and quiet, full of memories and regrets. Tonight, it was the exact opposite: it was loud, it was boisterous, it was bright and warm and full of good food and hot drinks, and it seemed to the bunny that they were making new memories as they sat together - like some weird inter-species family - at that tiny little dining set.

Twenty minutes after Judy ended her call with Nick, that lonely little apartment was full of animals once again. Helen was clearly in her element playing hostess. Finnick and Nick were enjoying the best lasagna in the world, as far as they were concerned. And Judy sat adjacent to Nick, enjoying the special spinach and Portobello mushroom lasagna Helen had made just for her; the bunny decided not to overanalyze the vixen's motives, it was _really_ good lasagna. Everyone got their choice of herbal tea or decaf coffee and ate in silence.

The clock chimed 10:45.

After a good half hour of pasta and small talk, Finnick finally broke the unspoken moratorium on the subject: "So, Redd got arrested."

"Yeah," Nick said stiffly as he set down his fork on his empty plate, "He did." He drained the last of his drink and set the cup aside.

Judy and Helen shared a look across the table, but neither said anything, nor offered to say anything. Finnick looked at both of them, silently asking for backup, but with none forthcoming, the fennec sighed and awkwardly continued, "So...You wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Nick said with a shrug. "Would _you_ want to talk about it?"

"Cut the bullshit, Wilde, I'm tryin' to be a friend here. What the hell happened?"

Nick sighed. Finnick had been a friend of his since high school. Though a good ten years older, Finnick was as close to a brother as Nick ever thought he would get. It helped that the fennec's rather blunt and forceful delivery could knock some sense into him when he needed it. For someone who looked so small and cute all the time, the smaller fox could be quite insightful (Nick had once called him "Yoda" and nearly gotten his tail kicked for it).

He glanced at Judy and sighed, pushing his empty plate away. "Okay, so...earlier today, I was leaving work at the end of my shift, and a couple of my coworkers come in leading Redd in handcuffs. He's all like 'It wasn't me, I didn't do it!' y'know, things like that. Things every suspect would say."

"Do you believe him?" Finnick asked.

"Finn, I don't know what to believe. I haven't seen him in twenty years."

"How'd he look?"

"Like hell. But if either of us were arrested like that, I don't think we'd look much better."

"Speak for yourself, fox, I'd be _workin'_ that mugshot," he said smugly.

Nick shared a smirk with Judy, each thinking the same thing: _He would, too._

"Y'know there's been a lotta talk on the street," the fennec offered, but his tone indicated he would be happy to drop it if no one wanted to talk about it.

Judy, naturally, _did_ want to talk about it. "What did you hear?"

"Carrots," Nick said, "I don't want to hear rumors; this is Wolford and Lupez's case, I trust they'll do a good job."

"Who, those wolves?" Finnick asked, then he laughed. "Yeah, right, wolves hate our kind more than anyone else! Well, except coyotes, maybe. But I know about as much as you do about what happened, except I found out who the victims were."

"Anyone I know?" Nick asked offhandedly, but they all knew the answer: after all, he "knew everybody".

"Yeah," the tiny fox said soberly. "You know 'em."

That gave him pause, looking right at his old partner-in-crime until the smaller fox explained. "Remember Rich and Molly Swift?"

Helen gasped. "My God...the Swifts? No."

"Yup," Finnick said. "And Bill Shanks…"

"That's not a huge surprise," Nick said. "He _lived_ the 'drunk as a skunk' stereotype."

Finnick looked uncomfortable, then said another name: "Peggy Reed…"

Both Nick and Helen froze. "Peggy Reed? _Our_ Miss Peggy?" Nick asked. Finnick only nodded sadly.

"My God," Helen said softly, pushing her cup away. "I just saw her the other day. Six years sober, bless her."

"Um," Judy spoke up, "Who are all these people?"

"The Swifts are - were - weasels, neighbors of ours from way back," Helen explained, still in disbelief. "Childless, but a very sweet couple. They sometimes babysat Nick while I was at work and Redd was off...doing whatever it was he was doing."

"Miss Peggy was our high school Math teacher," Nick explained, nodding to Finnick. The bigger fox facetiously added, "And Bill Shanks was the loveable neighborhood alcoholic…"

Finnick nodded, then said, "And the last victim was Larry Hogsden."

The table was absolutely silent. Judy saw the shift in mood in the foxes' expressions. Helen pursed her lips together and Nick casually looked at the coffee dregs at the bottom of his cup. The bunny must have looked completely aghast, because Finnick explained to her, "Ole Hogsden wasn't well liked. He was a slumlord, owned a few properties, mostly subsidized housing. I bet he's on a lotta people's lists. If Redd _did_ kill him...well, he got to him before anyone else could."

"But no one deserves to die," Judy argued.

" _He_ did," Helen said with a hard edge in her voice that took everyone by surprise. The vixen stood to pour herself another cup of tea. "I treated far too many mammals that lived in those cesspits that...that _pig_ called apartment blocks. Respiratory problems from black mold, treatment for lead poisoning and asbestos exposure...I saw it all, even in little babies. I _would_ say he did the bare minimum, but he refused to do even that. Charged exorbitant rents for those poor mammals who couldn't afford to live anywhere else, and pocketed everything. I'm not at all surprised Redd was associated with him."

"Yeah," Finnick said. "There's a reason I live in my van and not one of those subsidized apartments - I'd rather get stabbed and robbed than die a slow death in that piece of…"

"I think I get it," Judy said quickly. "Why would all of them be together in one place?"

"Dunno," Finnick shrugged. "Shanks and Hogsden make sense, if they were makin' a deal with Redd about somethin'. Peggy an' Rich an' Molly? That don't make sense at all. But they were all in the same apartment, all dead. Except Redd. A least that's what the word on the street is..."

Nick had been silent up until this point. He coughed and stood up. "I'm going to turn in. Early day tomorrow. Carrots, you can take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch."

"I'm not taking your bed from you!" Judy protested.

"You could share," Helen offered.

"Real subtle, Mom," Nick growled under his breath. He expected Judy had heard him. He didn't expect her to actually accept the offer.

"That makes sense," the bunny said. "I don't take up that much room, and since we both have to be up early, it would be easier getting up in the morning."

"That settles it, then," Helen said before Nick could protest. "You two in his room, Finnick, you're free to stay the night - I'm afraid it'll have to be the couch, though."

"No big," he said, helping himself to the last piece of lasagna. "I'm easy to please."

Helen led Judy down the hall to show her the bathroom and to find a place to hang up her uniform overnight. With the two females out of the room, Nick stared at his former partner, who was casually enjoying his food.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"Yeah, fool, I'm eatin'. I know you had a hard day, but damn."

* * *

 _This is fine,_ he told himself. _This is fine. This is perfectly okay. This is normal. This is fine._

Judy was sleeping next to him, curled up and snuggled deep under the covers. She had gone straight to sleep without any problem. He was still wide awake, for various reasons. Foremost, at the front of his mind, was that his (fully clothed) female partner was sharing his bed, which actually didn't have as much room as he would have liked. Being this close to her in this capacity, even if they were both fully clothed, was seriously testing his resolve.

The other thing on his mind, of course, was Redd. The old fox hadn't even been in his life for the last twenty years, and he was still screwing it up. It figured, just as Nick was preparing for a new life, a new chance at something greater than anyone ever expected of him, Redd had to come in like a hurricane and ruin it. The news would spread like wildfire, and Nick knew, he just _knew,_ that the other officers who had not yet accepted him would look at his father and think Nick was just another bad apple from a bad tree. Just another untrustworthy fox.

Judy stirred in her sleep, muttering something incoherent, but settled again and gently snored, with a sweet smile on her face. Her shifting had made his prior discomfort unbearable. _That's it, sleeping on the couch. Finn will make room._

Nick carefully pulled away the covers and slipped out, adjusting his sleep shirt and sweat pants. He frowned. He normally only slept in boxers, but the thought of being so...exposed around his partner was deeply unsettling and even more uncomfortable. What would she have thought if he had just stripped down and climbed into bed? _Since when do you care?_

He was too tired to think about it. He replaced the blankets and gently tucked her in before he grabbed a spare blanket and tiptoed out of the room. He rounded the corner and scanned the dark living room for the couch. Just as he started to make himself comfortable, he noticed Finnick was still awake. The tiny fox was sitting on the windowsill, smoking, exhaling cigarette smoke through the open window.

"'Sup, Wilde?" he asked, keeping his voice down so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping females down the hall. "Couldn't sleep?"

Nick decided it wasn't worth denying. "No." He laid out on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He likewise kept his voice low, knowing Judy slept on just the other side of the wall. "You think there's something wrong with me."

"Yeah, you're too damn noble, that's what's wrong wit' you." The fennec blew out the last drag and snuffed out the cigarette in a partially-empty glass of water. "She asleep?"

"Yeah. She'll be fine." Nick paused, then ventured: "Look, Finn, you know me, right? You know the last thing I want is for someone to pity me."

Finnick didn't even pause: "Is that why you talkin' to me an' not Judy?"

That question felt like a punch to the gut. He would've infinitely preferred one, actually. "I need someone to be the voice of reason," Nick said, staring up at the ceiling, "Someone who isn't close to the situation, who knew Redd back in the day, who won't let emotions cloud their judgment."

Finnick groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You ain't givin' that girl enough credit. Judy's sweet, but she's sharp, too. She loves ya, Nick. She ain't gonna let you go, no matter what you want."

"You don't understand," he said, ignoring Finnick's comment about Judy's feelings. Finnick didn't know Judy like Nick did; what would he know about her feelings? "You've never been on the receiving end of her Pity Looks."

"Pity Looks?" the fennec frowned in confusion.

"You know, the big pout, big shiny bunny eyes, the twitching nose, the quivering lip."

"Oh, you mean Cute Overload. Shit, wait, I'm not s'posed to say that…"

Nick pinched the bridge of his muzzle. "Forget about it. Finn, I just need someone to tell me what to do."

"Naw. You don't. You _want_ someone to tell ya what to do, but that ain't your style. Remember? Screw what everyone else thinks, you're your own fox, remember that?"

He did. He hated it when he was right. Finnick continued,

"Here's what you gonna do: You're gonna go to work tomorrow, you're gonna act like nothin's wrong, you're gonna keep your head down, do your job, _don't be a smartass_ ," he emphasized, "An' if Chief Buffalo-Butt tells ya to jump, you ask him how high he wants you to goddamn jump. Got it? You're still on probation there, right? How long's that go?"

"Three months," Nick said miserably. "I'll be off probation sometime after the New Year."

"Well happy New Year to you," he sarcastically replied. "Y'know why I'm tellin' you this, right?"

Nick knew. He nodded solemnly. Finnick sighed, climbed up on the other end of the sofa and leaned back on his paws.

"I'm tellin' you this 'cause if Redd goes to prison, or worse, you _can't_ let that get to you. Didn't I tell you when we first started out that you don't let that Mofo drag you down? Don't let it happen now."

"What if I have no choice but to get involved?"

"Fox, didn't I tell you already?" he angrily replied, losing his patience...but still mindful of keeping his voice down. "Do. Your. Damn. Job. That means doin' whatever you're told. I know you don't like that, hell, neither of us likes it, but we do it 'cause we got to. You can remain impartial or whatever the hell it's called; Redd's practically a stranger to you anyhow, so it can't be that hard. And if it is...tell your boss. He probably won't care and tell you to do your job anyway, but...keep it in mind."

"Right."

Finnick sighed heavily and nudged him with his foot; it was as close to a hug as the tiny fox would ever give. "I'm real sorry, Nick. I don't know what else to say."

"I appreciate it." He paused as a light breeze from the open window rustled his fur. "I guess I'll find out about it in the morning anyway. Hey Finn?"

"What?"

"I...Thanks."

The fennec ignored the uncomfortable silence that fell between them and brushed it off. But there was just the hint of a fond smile on his face. "We're bros, fox. We been through a lot, y'know? I ain't leavin' you high 'n dry just 'cause you're an honest-to-god cop. We're still bros, and I still love ya like a bro."

Nick smiled a little. "Yeah, right back at ya, big guy."

Finnick nodded, hopped down from the sofa and back up onto the windowsill. "Now shut up an' try 'n get some sleep, aight?"

"Yup. Good night, Finn." Nick covered himself with the blanket and rested his head on a throw pillow. As he expected to fall asleep, he was suddenly aware that the floor was a lot harder than the sofa. He looked up and growled at Finnick, who was responsible for literally kicking him off the couch. "What the hell, Finn?!"

The fennec thumbed over his shoulder. "You know why. Get back in there. An' you ain't sleepin' on that floor."

"Why are you and Mom so insistent?"

"Shit, man, you know how much money I got ridin' on this? Get your tail back in there!"

Choosing to ignore that last comment, Nick grumbled under his breath, and collected the blanket. If he had to sleep with her, he would at least do it _over_ the covers. He could be a gentle-mammal when he tried. Shooting another glare at Finnick as he rounded the corner, he walked back to his old room and slipped in, closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry."

Nick jumped, his tail frizzing up. He turned to see Judy sitting up in the dark, worrying the quilt in her paws. "What?"

She couldn't see him in the dark, but she had an idea where he was. Judy looked towards the door. "I'm sorry. I want to help, I _still_ want to help, but I don't know how...and instead of helping, I just became a burden."

Nick crossed the room in record time. "No! No, that's not true. Look, Carrots, I'm...I'm not in a good place right now. I can't think straight. I should probably call out tomorrow, but…" he huffed, not sure where he was going. He tried to get back on track: "I'm not upset with you - never think that."

"Then why did you want to sleep on the couch instead of your own bed?"

Nick remembered a line from one of his favorite books as a kid, which seemed strangely appropriate: _"He was so sly/and so slick/he thought up a lie/and he thought it up quick."_

"I don't know how much you heard through the wall - I know they're paper-thin - but Finnick's right: I'm too damn noble. It doesn't feel right sharing a bed like this."

"But we're friends, right? So what should it matter?" she asked.

She had a point, even if her reasoning cut him to the core. _You've got enough crap going on,_ he mentally chastised himself, _Leave this for later._ "I guess you're right. But I'm sleeping on top of the covers."

He could see her rolling her eyes in the dark. "Okay, if that's what you want."

 _It's not. Not really. But how can I tell you that?_ "Okay." He waited until she scooted over before he climbed up onto the mattress and covered himself with the blanket. "Hey Carrots?"

"Yeah, Nick?" she asked. She was turned away from him, staring at the wall. He ignored the rational part of his brain and scooted closer to wrap an arm around her. "I'm glad you called. I'm glad you came over. I'm sorry I treated you like crap; you're just being a friend."

She put her hand over his. "I _am_ your friend...and I just want you to know that no matter how bad it gets, I'm not going to leave. I'm not going to abandon you. I did that once, and I regret it every day."

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop beating yourself up about that?" he asked, feeling a fond smile tug at his lips.

"Well, you know how us emotional bunnies are," she lightly teased.

He didn't say anything to that. Instead: "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being you." In the darkness, he saw her turn over and look right at him; she smiled, eyes glimmering with emotion. She closed them and moved a little closer to him. "Anytime," she replied.

Nick curled up and allowed her to snuggle up close to him; she fell back asleep almost immediately. Even though he had patched things up with his partner, was laying down, and seemingly ready to sleep, Nick's mind wouldn't shut off. Aside from the obvious, the fox's mind kept falling onto the one subject he was trying to avoid thinking about.

Redd wasn't a killer. He couldn't be. Redd was many things, many _bad_ things, but he wasn't a killer. He didn't have it in him to kill anyone. This had to be a misunderstanding.

 _Why do you care?_ a part of him mutinuously thought. _He abandoned you when you were twelve. You went into hustling because of him, so you could keep a roof over your mother's head. His selfishness meant you had to grow up and be the man of the house before you even hit puberty._

He nodded to himself. That was how he would approach it. The other officers at Precinct One would either go out of their way to make him feel better, or avoid him like the plague. He had no idea which he preferred.

* * *

The next morning, the bullpen quieted as soon as Nick entered the room. From its usual fracas, it more resembled a funeral. All eyes were on him, and though he hid behind his aviators, he wouldn't be able to avoid the subject for long. Word traveled fast through Precinct One, and by now, everyone had to know about Redd, and Nick's connection with him.

He and Judy climbed up into their usual chair and waited silently for Bogo to come in and give out assignments. Neither fox nor bunny looked at each other.

Bogo finally entered the silent room, lumbering up to the podium to begin the morning briefing. "Alright, you lot, settle down."

The irony wasn't lost on a single one of them. And each officer knew from experience that Bogo didn't care.

"First item on the docket," he began, as if there was nothing awry, nothing different about the mood in the room, "We've had a string of robberies in Sahara Square, local business owners requesting extra police presence, so every last one of you will be out on patrol today, except Hopps and Wilde.

"You two," he continued before they could protest, "Are needed here in the station. See me after the meeting for today's assignments. Everyone else, line up."

Nick stared straight ahead, ignoring the looks, knowing that even those who weren't looking his way were actively trying not to. Wolford passed him, looked like he was going to say something, then thought better of it and walked up to accept his assignment. Fangmeyer just frowned and furrowed her brows with concern. One by one the officers filed out, leaving Bogo alone with the two smallest members of the force. The buffalo glanced at Higgins, who nodded and closed the door behind him.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you why I'm keeping you in the station today," he said, looking directly at the fox.

Nick looked back at his boss, feeling absolutely miserable, but doing everything in his power to hide it. "No sir, you don't."

"Good." The buffalo stepped forward and slapped a manila folder on top of the table directly in front of Nick. "This report is the sloppiest piece of shite I've seen in all my years of policing. You're going to do it over, and Hopps is going to help you. I won't tolerate shoddy work, Wilde. This is a warning. Next time, you won't get that much. Understood?"

Bewildered, Nick looked between the folder and the Chief. "My report...my report was bad?"

"Your report was _tripe_. But, I'm in a good mood today, so I'm giving you until the end of your shift to redo it. I expect to see you _both_ with your heads down over your desk, all day, never leaving the station without my permission, not talking to anyone, until you clock out for the day. And I want that report personally delivered and placed on my desk by five. Am I clear?"

And suddenly Nick realized what Bogo was really doing, and why. The fox almost choked up, but he bit his lip, swallowed hard, and nodded. Bogo nodded back, visibly grateful that he didn't have to talk about the figurative elephant in the room.

"It won't get done by staring at it, Wilde. Get on with it."

"Yes, sir." He waited until Bogo had his hoof on the door before he spoke up a little louder. "Sir?"

Bogo sighed and turned to glare at the fox.

Nick just stared back, unsmiling. "Thanks."

Bogo said nothing in return. He opened the door and stepped out, leaving Nick and Judy alone.

Judy frowned. "But I looked at your report yesterday, everything was fine…"

"Carrots," he gently said. She looked up at him, her nose twitching. Curiously, Nick was smiling. "It's okay, Carrots, he's doing me a favor. C'mon," he grabbed the folder and hopped down off the chair. "You'd better show me how this is really done so I don't get another chewing out."

* * *

At fifteen minutes to five, Judy admitted that there was no conceivable way to make Nick's report any more perfect than it already was. Nick debated waiting until five o'clock to personally hand it over to Bogo, per his orders; Finnick had warned him to follow orders to the letter. But Bogo would probably be pissed that Nick waited until the absolute last minute, so the fox bit the bullet and made the long, lonely walk up to the Chief's office.

At 4:50, he stepped up to Bogo's open doorway and knocked on the doorjamb. Bogo was hunched over his paper-littered desk, reading glasses perched on his muzzle. He flicked his eyes up over the rim of his glasses and beckoned him in.

"Wilde, that report ready?"

Nick held up the manila folder. "I thought it best to turn it in just a little bit early."

"You worked all day on it?"

"Even ordered take out so we didn't have to leave the station."

"Good. Close the door."

Nick gulped before he could stop himself. It was a Pavlovian response that every single officer had picked up. When Chief Bogo said those terror-inducing words, it was enough to make even the toughest mammal break out into a cold sweat. With Finnick's words echoing in his head, he followed orders and closed the door behind him before he walked over to the desk and handed the folder over to the buffalo.

"Have a seat."

The other three most terrifying words. Nick climbed up into the chair wordlessly, sat down and straightened his back. Somehow, he thought slouching would only piss him off more, and he was doing his damnedest to keep the buffalo as happy - or well, less angry - as possible.

Bogo only gave the folder a cursory look before he slapped it onto a pile of folders, threaded his hooves together and leaned forward over his desk. "Wilde."

"Sir?"

"You followed my orders?"

"Yes, sir."

"To the letter?"

"To the letter, sir."

"Why?"

This was a trick, it had to be. Nick didn't know how to answer him. He didn't know if he _should_ answer him. In his previous career, Nick gave mammals like Bogo a wide berth, knowing that they would in no way ever be conned or outwitted. Or if he tried, they'd probably stomp him to death. He decided that right now, honesty was the best policy.

"I...don't understand the question, sir."

"I asked you why you followed my orders." Bogo snorted when all he got in response was a nonplussed look. "You routinely skirt the edges of the rules, take advantage of every loophole you can find, and frankly, many of your antics over the last month have gotten you _this close_ to being fired. So why now? Why are you following my orders now?"

Nick wet his lips and said honestly, "Sir, given recent events...I believed it was in my best interest - in everyone's best interest - to keep my head down and do what I'm told."

Bogo stared at him a moment longer, sighed, and took off his reading glasses. "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer."

Nick nodded. Bogo's question, however, threw him for a loop:

"How are you doing?"

Nick blinked. He stared at his boss. He blinked again. "Um...beg pardon?"

"How are you doing?" he repeated. He sounded...sincere. He even looked concerned. He didn't look angry, or annoyed, or frustrated. The Chief actually looked like he was worried about him. Nick's better judgment told him not to, but the fox went ahead anyway:

"There was nothing wrong with my report, was there?"

The Chief nodded. "Correct."

"So I was right: you were just doing this to keep me out of sight."

Bogo sighed and rubbed his temple. "I did it to keep you away from the rumor mill. I knew that certain things might get around, and the media has been turning this into a circus, as they always do. The last thing I need is one of my rookie officers getting involved in something as... unseemly as this. What _I_ want to know is what _you_ know. Has anyone spoken to you?"

Nick shook his head. "No. I think a few of them wanted to, but I didn't give them the chance."

He furrowed his brows. "Why not?"

"Like you said: rumors. I didn't want to believe anything until I knew all the facts. And if the media wants to stir this up into something this isn't...I guess it's a good thing I didn't watch the news this morning."

"It is. And when you leave today, I recommend taking the back way, through the garage. Reporters have parked themselves right outside my front door, and they won't be going anywhere until they get a statement from you."

"What do they expect me to say?" Nick asked. "All I know is that my father was arrested, and he's accused of murder."

"That's it? That's all you know?"

"That's all I care to know."

"You're lying."

"You're right. But it's not my place to ask."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Pretty sure that the ZPD doesn't allow officers to investigate cases concerning their relatives or close friends, for ethical reasons."

The buffalo visibly agreed with him, and appeared mildly impressed that the fox actually knew about the regulations. He also looked conflicted, but got over it quickly by necessity. "In this case, we may need your help. Your father will certainly need your help."

Nick couldn't read his expression, but he could interpret his tone. "How bad is it?"

Bogo closed his eyes a moment, as if debating with himself. Then with a resigned sigh, he picked up a separate folder, and handed it over to the fox. "It doesn't look good."

Nick opened the folder and viewed the crime scene photos. It wasn't what he expected. He expected the five bodies of people he had known, laying in various positions on the floor of an old apartment in what looked like Sahara Square. A glance at the address confirmed this. The photos didn't show any blood, any signs of trauma, nothing outwardly wrong…

"Are they still working on the autopsies?" Nick asked.

"Medical Examiner hasn't released the final report yet. But from what I hear, there was no sign of trauma, no apparent murder weapon...preliminary explanation suggests poisoning of some kind."

Nick frowned, turning the photos in various ways. "They look like they're sleeping."

"Yes, that was the strange thing," Bogo admitted. "The ME's going to have a hell of a time figuring out exactly what killed them. It could have been poisoned alcohol, or the various poisonous substances in the apartment that CSI picked up; they're testing the bodies for all of them. All we know is that _something_ in that apartment killed them."

"What does Redd say?" Nick finally asked. "What's his story?"

"He says he's innocent, that he didn't murder them. They got together for a few drinks, he blacked out, and the next thing he remembered is waking up with what sounds like the hangover from Hell, and five dead bodies in the same room with him. He doesn't deny he was at the scene, nor does he deny running...or trying to. He didn't think to call the police, which doesn't look-"

"Of course he wouldn't call the police," Nick interrupted. "A fox calls the cops to report that five of his friends are dead without any possible explanation, and you think they're going to take him at his word? Redd might've left when I was twelve, but the one thing he taught me that I took to heart is to never trust the cops, because _they_ would never trust _you_."

He realized too late how that last statement could be interpreted by his boss. Nick glanced up, saw that the buffalo's expression had hardened, and he coughed.

"Sorry, old habit. But you have to admit, you weren't exactly impressed with me when we first met. You didn't trust my word then. Some days…" _You're pushing it, don't push it, don't push it…_ "Some days, I wonder if you still don't trust me."

"Wilde," Bogo snapped, and Nick knew he had gone too far. "Whether or not I trust you doesn't matter right now. I need you to talk some sense into your father."

"Why?" he challenged, silently noting that Bogo hadn't denied his accusation. "He's as stubborn as a mule. If that's his story and he's sticking to it, he's not going to change his mind."

"I'm not asking you to convince him to confess. I'm asking you to convince him to make a deal."

"What do you mean?" the fox frowned.

Now Bogo looked genuinely worried. "He's told his public defender that he wants a jury trial."

Nick's jaw dropped. He felt like he would be sick. " _What_?! Is he insane?"

"That was my first thought. You're unfortunately right, most mammals still don't trust foxes. If he wants to escape the maximum penalty…" and Bogo did not need to remind him what that was, "...he needs to enter a guilty plea. That's the only thing that will save his life."

Nick closed the file and stared at the floor, his mind racing. His parents' divorce and his father's subsequent disappearance from their lives had been hard. But his death? If Redd had died an old fox in his bed, that would've been one thing; execution was another thing entirely. And foxes and others like them were always put in the express lane.

"Can I talk to him now?" Nick asked, feeling bile rising in his throat.

Bogo stood a little too quickly. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Judy was waiting for him in the lobby but stood to attention when Bogo showed up first, with the fox in his wake. The buffalo looked down at her and wordlessly beckoned her to follow him. She nodded and walked in step with her partner, shoulder to shoulder, down to the holding cells. Zootopia law required that a mammal could not be held for longer than 72 hours without being charged; Mr. Wilde was already charged, but the only reason he was still there over 24 hours after his arrest was because they were finding room for him at the local jail. Or so Clawhauser said. The cheetah was a fount of knowledge for everything that went on in the precinct, from office gossip to the nitty-gritty of every case in the last five years. Not for the first time, Judy felt that Clawhauser's talents were wasted being a receptionist and dispatch operator. He would make an excellent detective…

They stopped outside the heavy steel door that led to the holding cells. She had only been down there a handful of times since she began working there. Every time she had gone down there, it had always been in the presence of male officer (usually a predator), or with Bogo himself. The bunny's egalitarian sensibilities were inflamed by the notion that these males _had_ to escort her like she was some delicate flower, until Fangmeyer had pulled her aside and explained it had nothing to do with her size or her species.

"Even _I_ don't like going down there alone," the tigress explained. "Ask any female cop here: you may be tough as nails, but nothing prepares you for being alone down there with all those...well, you get it."

It had been a very unwelcome wake-up call. After that day, Judy never again complained about a male escorting her.

They had stopped outside one cell. The officer on duty nodded and unlocked the door, slowly easing it open for the fox and rabbit to enter. Bogo insisted on both of them going in to talk to the suspect.

He knelt next to them and said to Judy, "Keep him calm; if the suspect tries to rattle him, get him out of there. Understand?"

"Yes, Chief," she said with a nod, and followed Nick inside. When she saw the other fox in the cell, she was astounded.

Redd Wilde still largely looked like the young fox from the wedding portrait and numerous other decades-old photos. Except the obvious aging, she swore she was looking at Nick's twin. The older fox had the same lean build, laid back posture, and self-assured smile (which right now was strained, undoubtedly from the stress of his current predicament). But he was a bit huskier around the middle, his fur slightly unkempt, and had graying fur around his muzzle and framing his face.

But on closer inspection, he had none of Nick's positive traits. That smile was not friendly; like his piercing eyes, that smile was, for lack of a better word, predatory. In fact, he was eyeing Judy in a way that made her skin crawl, like he was assessing how well and how quickly he could scam her. Mr. Wilde's green eyes were sharp as knives, and she got the disturbing impression that he was staring right through her. The older fox was also a couple inches shorter than his son, but his confidence made him seem more intimidating.

Right now, however, he didn't look as confident as he did in those old photos on Helen Wilde's wall. He looked pale, care-worn, and had a slight tremor in his hands that he unsuccessfully tried to hide by clasping them together. Nick stood across from him, arms crossed over his chest, his expression as unreadable as his father's. They stared each other down, each one assessing the other, studying him, seeing which of them would break first. In the end, it was no contest.

"Hi, Nick."

"Hello, Redd."

Redd winced. Well, Judy reasoned, it _had_ been twenty years since he had last seen his son; he looked like he barely even recognized him, except that looking at this fox in uniform was almost like looking into a mirror and seeing his much younger doppelganger. There was no question in Judy's mind that Nick was his son. But given time since they last saw each other, it didn't surprise her that Nick refused to call him Dad. But a glance at Redd's face showed that it still hurt.

"I guess you've heard, huh?" the older fox asked.

Nick nodded once. "Yeah, they filled me in. Can we talk?"

"Of course. We can talk about whatever you want." He sounded so congenial, it had Judy on high alert already. One shared glance with her partner told her Nick was thinking along the same lines.

Nick turned back to him, "Do you want an attorney present?"

"Won't need one. We're just talking as father and son, aren't we?"

Nick didn't answer him right away, instead pointing to the rabbit, "This is Officer Judy Hopps, my partner."

Judy nodded politely at him. "I would say it's nice to meet you…"

"I get it, thanks, sweetheart," Redd said with a wry smile. He meant it. Or it seemed like he did, anyway. Judy should have chastised herself; she had buried the hatchet with Gideon Grey, and she was best friends and partners with a fox, so why was it so hard to fight her instincts to not trust _this_ fox? Redd continued, "So you want to know what happened? In my own words?"

"That'd be nice," Nick said.

Redd took in a deep breath and began: "I'm going to tell you what I told the other officers and my lawyer. I left Zootopia after the divorce, stayed away for a few years. I felt it was for the best. Your mother hid it well, but it was...what's the word…?"

"Acrimonious?" Judy offered.

Redd nodded, "Yeah, that's the word her lawyer used. _Acrimonious_. It was a bad breakup, and I didn't make it any easier. Helen needed space, and I gave it to her. So I left, went up to Timber Heights to work in the plants there. The plants shut down, and I drifted just looking for work. Finally some old friends of mine who were still living here said they had an opening and could get me in, give me a good word. I figured, hey, it's been twenty years, Helen's probably moved on and won't care if I'm back, as long as I leave her alone.

"So I come back, I get the job, nothing fancy, just working as a super in one of those old apartment buildings."

"The same address as the crime scene?" Judy asked softly, gently.

The older fox nodded. "Yeah, same address. My rent was covered by my earnings, and my friends helped out a bit. It was great; I'd always liked working with my hands, and I'd never get rich, but it was honest work."

Nick flinched a little at the last five words, but recovered quickly. "So what happened the other night?"

Redd sighed, sitting on the cot and resting his elbows on his knees. He looked his son in the eye and said, "One of them, Larry, Larry Hogsden, you wouldn't know him, but he worked with me at the old factory that got shut down when you were a kid…"

"I know the one," Nick said with a nod. "Go on."

"Right. Well, anyway, he's the one who got me the job. He was the landlord, and he invited me and a couple other folks over to his place for a few drinks. It was pretty chilly that night, so we had a space heater, but that wasn't enough, so we propped open the oven, just a little. Larry brought out the tequila, but I was never one for the hard stuff. I finish my first drink and - well, I'm no lush, but I'm not a lightweight either - I blacked out.

"When I woke up, it was morning, and I had a nasty headache, felt nauseous, like the worst hangover in my life. At some point I had passed out on the floor, I don't know when. I looked around to check on everyone else, and they were all lying around in the kitchen, a couple of them slumped over on the table like they had just fallen asleep there. I thought that was odd; there was a perfectly good couch, though Larry was already on it, so maybe that was why...

"Anyway, I get up, but I gotta crawl, see, 'cause my head felt funny trying to stand. Crawled over and tried to shake one of them awake. Wouldn't wake up. Body felt cold and stiff. I checked, no pulse."

"Why didn't you call 911?" Judy asked, finding it hard to keep the accusation out of her tone.

Redd leveled her with a glare. "Are you kidding? I'm a _fox_. You think anyone would believe me? Besides, I thought I had to be wrong. I crawled to the door - I was the closest one to the door, see - and managed to open it. Once I got some fresh air, I felt a lot better. Headache seemed to go away a little, and I felt a little steadier on my feet. I didn't even know the others were dead until one of Larry's neighbors comes out and screams. Calls the cops immediately. Cops show up...and I'm the only survivor in a room full of dead mammals. You do the math.

"I know it doesn't look good for me, and I know you don't believe me, but I didn't kill them. Nick, I know I'm many things: I'm a lousy father, and even worse husband, I can't hold down a job to save my life...but I'm no killer. I liked these mammals, they were the only friends I had left in the world. I don't have anything or anyone left." He paused, gauging Nick's reaction. "Please, you have to believe me."

"No, I don't."

Even Judy was surprised by the callous tone. "Nick…"

He ignored her. "Redd, you need to plead guilty."

Redd's jaw dropped. "But...but I'm innocent!"

Nick finally snapped, "And if you go to trial, do you _really_ think that jury would give you the benefit of a doubt? There may not be enough evidence to convict you, but they'll do it anyway. When was the last time a fox got off on a murder charge?" He let that sink in before his anger slipped away. And Judy now saw where the anger was really coming from, and it was surprising to say the least, given his demeanor just the day before.

Nick continued, dropping those walls just a little: "Redd...Dad...don't be stubborn. Pleading guilty is the only thing that will save your life. I know that, _you_ know that, we _all_ know that."

"But I _didn't do it_ ," Redd said firmly. "I can't go to prison for a crime I didn't commit!"

"If you don't, you'll be _executed_ for a crime you didn't commit!"

"No."

" _Dad_."

Redd snapped, "I said no! They haven't executed a mammal here since before you were a twinkle in my eye. I'll take my chances at a jury trial."

Nick sighed in frustration and ran his paws through his fur. "How can you _not_ see that? How can you not see what danger you're in? Creatures like you and me, creatures that society already thinks are dangerous or untrustworthy? We go straight to the front of the line. You're getting arraigned in a week, the trial will be a month from now, we both know that, and because you have the right to a _speedy_ trial, it'll take only a couple days - if that - for them to come back with a guilty verdict, even if all evidence points to your innocence. And judges won't treat you much better. Take. The. Deal."

Redd sat in silence, staring at his clasped paws as he thought it over. Then he looked up at Judy, who felt conflicted, then again at Nick, who stood firm, fully convinced he was right. But Redd seemed to think he was right, too. He was also beginning to look awful, physically and emotionally, and he had only one more thing to say:

"Nick, I know I haven't been much of a father…"

"You haven't been a father, period," Nick corrected.

Redd didn't correct him. "I know you have no reason to believe me, but please, don't be like me. You're already a much better mammal than I could ever hope to be. I abandoned you and your mother. Don't be like me. Don't abandon me. You're better than I am, so please, be the better mammal, and don't turn your back on me."

Judy couldn't read Nick's expression at first, but then those soulful green eyes finally showed the resignation that sealed Redd's fate.

Nick sighed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, you actually _aren't_ guilty, that this is all a big misunderstanding, or maybe even an accident. The worst that could happen is culpable homicide, but more likely involuntary manslaughter…"

"Nick…" Judy started. He just continued, and both the rabbit and older fox realized the vulpine officer was thinking things through out loud.

"The DA already has a hard enough case proving this is first-degree murder," he continued. "And there's still time to collect evidence from the crime scene…"

"Nick," Judy interrupted. "CSI has already gone over it."

"I'm sure they missed something, they always do," the fox said morosely. He had known a few of those crime scene investigators in the academy; the fact he did better at the mock crime scenes than they did wasn't reassuring. Nick finally looked back at Redd and sighed again.

"Fine, I'll look into the case. But you gotta promise me something."

"Of course, anything!" Redd said excitedly, his scruffy tail beginning to wag.

Nick pointed at him. "You need to see a doctor. You're not looking so good."

The tail stopped wagging. "Can't imagine why," Redd muttered sarcastically.

Nick ignored him and walked out of the cell, leaving Judy behind. The rabbit stepped over to Redd and boldly placed her cool hand against his suddenly sweaty forehead. Her brows furrowed with concern.

"I'll call for a medic," she told him. "In the meantime, try and get some rest."

Redd nodded slightly, and laid down on the cot without another word. Judy gave him one last worried glance before following her partner out of the cell.

Bogo was waiting for them, and he didn't look happy. He glared down at Nick. "You were supposed to make him take the deal, not make promises you couldn't keep."

Nick sighed again, arms akimbo as he looked back up at his boss with tired resignation. "Yeah, well he's a lot more stubborn than I remember. Or maybe he's gotten worse with age, I don't know."

"He's also not feeling well, Chief," Judy spoke up. "I checked his temperature. He's burning up. He really needs to see a doctor."

Bogo's eyes flicked over to her, then back to the fox. "Fine. I'll have him taken to hospital if it comes to it. We have a nurse on staff who will take a look at him. In the meantime, your shifts ended almost an hour ago."

"Sir," Judy said, "With all due respect-"

"Carrots," Nick interrupted quickly, "It's after dark, and there's nothing we can do this late. We're both tired, and we can hit up the case bright and early tomorrow morning, so long as the Chief doesn't have any other assignments for us, right Chief?"

Bogo just stared at him like he'd grown several more tails. "Right...but for now, get out of here, go home, get some rest."

Neither of the officers needed to be told twice.

* * *

Two hours later, Keith McHorn opened his front door shortly after the doorbell rang. The rhino looked around before process of elimination caused him to look down. "Wilde! Good to see ya, man, come on in! You find the place okay?"

"Yeah, wasn't too hard to find," Nick stepped over the threshold as the rhino invited him in. The fox had initially reconsidered coming to poker night, even though McHorn had invited him several times since he'd started. It had been at Judy's urging that he came, insisting that he needed to blow off some steam, and get to know his coworkers a little better. Tonight, he was getting to know ZPD veteran officer Keith McHorn.

The McHorn household was in one of the nicer neighborhoods of city central, and that wasn't to say it was anything fancy. The rhino and his family lived in a quiet, quaint little neighborhood, the likes of which Nick had only ever seen on TV sitcoms; he didn't think suburbia like this actually existed, and yet here he was. The house was deceptively small on the outside, with a fenced-in yard littered with kids' toys. Inside, it was nice and cozy, with dozens of family photos lining the walls, some feminine touches courtesy of Mrs. McHorn (who Nick knew from experience made one hell of an excellent macaroni casserole), and toys from the little ones still laid out on the floor.

Elliot Wolford and Jerry Higgins were already there, the hippo setting up for the game at the kitchen table, and the wolf picking up the last of the toys.

"Elliot, y'don't have to do that," McHorn said as he closed the door. "The kids are supposed to pick up after themselves."

"See, you _say_ that," the gray wolf pointed out, "But I have a lot of younger sibs – in my opinion, stepping on a Lego is worse than getting shot."

"I believe it," Nick said as he walked in. He shrugged off his ZPD jacket, adding it to the pile on the sofa. "Those things should be classified as weapons of mass destruction."

Wolford smirked, "See? My fellow canine gets it."

"Where _are_ the kids tonight, Keith?" Higgins asked as he deftly shuffled the cards.

"Amy took the girls to softball practice," the rhino said. "It's not a school night, so they won't be home until later." McHorn rolled his eyes as Wolford managed to step on an aforementioned Lego and let out a string of colorful curses. "Nick, Elliot, can I get ya guys something to drink?"

Nick hopped up into one chairs around the huge kitchen table, and found he could barely see over the edge. Higgins gently nudged him aside and stacked two phone books onto the seat so the fox could comfortably sit. Once he was situated, Nick replied, "Surprise me, I'm easy to please."

McHorn nodded and set a smaller can of beer by him…a can that still would have come up to the fox's upper chest. "What about you, Elliot? You've been pretty quiet. Well, more than usual."

The wolf limped over to the table, still smarting from the injury to his foot and his pride. "Yeah, just water tonight. Promised Olivia - I mean, Officer Lupez - I would take it easy." The wolf gingerly set himself down into the chair next to Nick's. The fox could still smell Lupez's scent all over the gray wolf and inwardly crowed in triumph; it was probably the easiest fifty bucks he had ever made. And the fox wanted to ask him about his date night, but held back when he noticed that the wolf looked very pale, and was holding his head and wincing every so often.

"Hey, are you okay?" the fox asked with concern.

"Yeah," the wolf waved him off. "I've just been feeling a bit off today. This headache just won't go away. Had it since last night."

"You take something for it?" Higgins asked as he started to deal for five-card stud. The other males picked up their cards and started stacking their chips.

"Hasn't done much of anything," the wolf admitted. "If I'm still feeling bad in the morning, I'll call out. You all are my witnesses."

"Y'know the Chief won't care," the hippo said, placing his first bet as the others followed suit. "He said to me earlier that you looked like hell. Lupez, too, for that matter. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, but she gets migraines anyway." Wolford set down two cards and picked up two from the deck. He had the best poker face Nick had ever seen, and he genuinely wished he had that gift. But the fox was still worried.

"If you were feeling bad, why did you come in?" Higgins asked.

"Jeez, what's with the twenty questions?" the wolf said irritably as McHorn set a glass of water by his paw. "Me and Lupez came in to finish our reports on…" he trailed off and glanced at Nick. Then he coughed into his hand and surveyed his cards a little closer. "Anyway, let's play some poker."

"No arguments here," said McHorn as he raised his bet.

They played in mostly silence for a while, Higgins and McHorn winning a hand each, then it became a contest between Nick and Wolford, who was holding his own despite looking worse by the second. After a while, Nick stopped trying to win. The looks he shared with the rhino and hippo told him he wasn't the only one worried about the wolf.

After several more unsuccessful rounds, Wolford finally sighed and joined McHorn and Higgins in defeat. "Hump it, I fold."

Nick laid out his cards, "Ooh, that's a cryin' shame…"

The wolf cursed. "I knew it. I _knew_ you were bluffing!"

"Should've called me on it," the fox smugly said as he pulled the chips closer to him.

Higgins sighed, "If you weren't wearing short sleeves, I'd think you were cheating. Uh, not that you would," he added with a sharp look from McHorn. "I mean, not like I was thinking that because you're a fo-OW!" the hippo rubbed the back of his head where the rhino had smacked him.

Nick only held his paws up. "Guys, guys, it's fine. I know what you meant, Jerry, and it's fine. Besides, I've heard a lot worse."

"Doesn't make it right," McHorn said, enviously eyeing Nick's stack of chips.

The fox shrugged. "Hey, you guys are alright." He was surprised at himself, because he actually meant it. Over the past few games, the spirit of competitiveness that marked the male species had evolved into actual fun. He realized that there were actual animals behind the uniforms. Jerry Higgins wasn't some stick-in-the-mud stickler for rules all the time: off the clock, the hippo was pretty laid back. Keith McHorn wasn't a total hard-ass: he had two little girls whom he doted on to the point of spoiling, and spoke of his wife with both reverence and fear (and having known his fair share of female rhinos, Nick knew exactly why). And Elliot Wolford wasn't anything like the dour persona he used on the job: the wolf was actually the life of the party. At least, under normal circumstances he would have been.

As the night wore on, the wolf looked worse and worse. He tugged on his shirt collar and had trouble focusing on the cards in his paw. Finally, McHorn couldn't take it anymore and set his cards down.

"Alright, I've had enough. Elliot, you're going to the doctor." He grabbed the wolf by the arm and started to lift him out of his chair.

Wolford weakly fought him off. "'M fine," he said unconvincingly. His speech was slurred, which was quite unusual since he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night. Suddenly the wolf seized the edge of the table and wavered a bit, his face paling quickly. "A-Actually," he finally admitted breathlessly, "I think a doctor might-"

He dropped. Only McHorn's quick reflexes kept the wolf from completely collapsing. Higgins and Nick were both up and rushing to help, the game completely forgotten. The rhino checked the wolf's vital signs and started shouting out orders. "Nick, call the hospital! Jerry, first aid's under the sink. Elliot," he turned to the wolf and tried to wake him up. "C'mon, Elliot, this isn't funny, stay with me…" Then he swore loudly. "Damn it, he's out!"

* * *

A/N: Couple things: "[he] was so sly/and so slick/he thought up a lie/and he thought it up quick" was, of course, taken from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. I got stuck writing that scene, when that little gem popped up, and I felt I had to use it.

Helen is so much fun to write; I really think she's a combination of my mom and her sisters: meddling is a family past time :3

And this fic needed more Finnick. Like a lot of fans, I just fell in love with him. He got barely two minutes of screen time in the movie, but I love that little guy. Being on the shorter side myself, I love the idea of Crouching Cutie, Hidden Badass.

Also, there's a reason I've given Wolford and Lupez the names I did: they're named for my two favorite TV detectives ever, Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson, from Law and Order: SVU. Hey, I don't care if it doesn't become canon; my fic, my rules. And it's fun imagining what the other ZPD officers are like off the clock, realizing that there are flesh-and-blood people behind the uniform and making them - for lack of better word - more human.

As always, please read and review! Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated.

\- Luna


	4. Chapter 3

I know I intended to post this chapter last week, but real life got in the way. I still fully intend to update this on a weekly basis.

Standard disclaimers apply: The Mouse owns it. This fic is just for fun.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

Chief Bogo was not having a good evening. The day had gone by relatively uneventfully, which should have been his first clue that something would come along to muck it all up. Aside from the fact that the media had been camped outside the precinct's doors all day hoping for an interview with Wilde, and aside from dealing with the usual paperwork and headaches (some literal, some figurative), and occasionally putting out fires (again, some literal, some figurative), it had been a quiet day. The highlight, if he could have called it that, was having the one-on-one with Wilde just before the fox's shift ended.

Nicholas Wilde was, well, a wild card; he could be anything or anyone he wanted the world to see. No matter how hard he tried, the buffalo just could not get a read on the fox. He hid his emotions extremely well, but it didn't take long for the Chief to recognize the smugness and the sarcasm for what they really were: coping mechanisms. Every officer had one, or several, some better than others, but nothing was more grating and irritating than sarcasm. Especially from a fox.

Bogo had told himself that he was over it, he had told himself that he wouldn't have hired the fox if he still held onto that prejudice. But if he was being perfectly honest with himself (and right now, he was), there were only two reasons he hired Wilde: his scores at the academy were just that damn good...and Hopps would never forgive him if he didn't.

Bogo sighed, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he looked into the open doorway to the ICU. He'd had plans that night: for once, there were no emergencies needing his immediate attention, so he could go home at a reasonable hour, cook a nice dinner, kick back with a beverage of choice and finally get to some of the books he had accumulated over the years yet never had any time to actually read.

Then he got the call. Redd Wilde had collapsed in his cell.

And now, a couple hours later, the buffalo was looking through the glass door to Redd's private room in the ICU, which wasn't very private with no less than four officers on guard at once. It didn't take a criminal profiler to know Redd Wilde was a flight risk...even if he was currently so heavily sedated he may as well have been in a coma. An oxygen mask was fixed tightly around the sleeping fox's muzzle, and he looked pale as death.

 _Just what I need, another dead body. Bloody brilliant._

Then he got another call.

The call he dreaded more than any other.

He had barged into the ER enough times over the years that the doctors and nurses didn't give him a second glance. One of the nurses, a vixen with green eyes and dressed in green scrubs, caught his attention and led him straight to the correct bed.

Wolford looked like hell. He was barely conscious, an oxygen mask covering his muzzle, the heart monitor slowly beeping...it was Bogo's worst nightmare.

And it only got worse. The bed next to Wolford's held a nearly unconscious Lupez, who weakly held an oxygen mask to her own muzzle as a doctor checked her lungs and heartbeat with a stethoscope. The vixen who had showed Bogo in gently tugged on his pant leg to get his attention.

"The first one, Elliot Wolford, came in about forty-five minutes ago," she said, glancing at the chart. "Lost consciousness at a friend's house - fortunately those friends were fellow police officers. They said he had been having headaches, fatigue, blurred vision, slurred speech, for at least the last twenty-four hours.

"The second patient, Olivia Lupez, only arrived fifteen minutes ago. She was complaining of similar symptoms, including chest pains and shortness of breath. We're running tests now."

He barely heard her, his eyes glued to his officers, but he had the presence of mind to thank her. "Thank you, Nurse…"

"Wilde."

Bogo looked down sharply. There was no way anything could be that coincidental. But sure enough, this vixen had the same russet fur, the same green eyes…

"You're not related to Officer Nicholas Wilde, are you?" he asked.

She nodded, as if this was a common enough question that didn't warrant more of a response. "Yes, yes, he's my son. He arrived-"

He immediately assumed the worst. "Him too?! Bloody hell… Who else is going to show up?"

She cleared her throat and calmly pointed down the hall. "He's fine. He's in the waiting room with the others."

"Others?"

He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. McHorn, Higgins, and Wilde sat in chairs opposite Trunkaby, Fangmeyer, and Hopps. A quick glance at the respective groups told him that it had been McHorn's weekly poker game, and Trunkaby's weekly Girls' Night Out, that had been interrupted by twin medical emergencies. The officers all looked up when he entered, and Fangmeyer was the first to stand.

"Any news?" the tigress asked.

Bogo glanced down at the vulpine nurse, who nodded in encouragement. He said, "They're stable, but until test results come back, we don't know much else. Now, I have two excellent officers that both admitted to hospital with the exact same symptoms within minutes of each other, and I would like to know what the hell happened." There was no accusation in his tone, just a desire to know. Hopps quickly explained that since Lupez hadn't been feeling well, they decided to bring Girls' Night Out to her apartment (which had been Hopps's idea, and that didn't surprise the buffalo at all). Lupez's condition swiftly deteriorated, but, true to the she-wolf's grit, she had denied needing medical attention until it was clear she couldn't breathe on her own.

Then McHorn quickly explained what had happened at his home, everything from when Wolford arrived to when he collapsed. Wilde and Higgins collaborated the statement. Bogo turned to Wilde and asked,

"Were you aware your father was admitted here a few hours ago?"

Wilde's ears perked up and his eyes widened. So did Hopps's.

"So you didn't know," the buffalo said.

"I-No, no one told me," Nick said, sharing a shocked look with Judy. "I knew he wasn't feeling well back at the station but...is it serious?"

"He's seriously lucky it got worse while he was _here_ ," the Chief said. "He collapsed in his cell a couple hours ago. Got him here just before it could get any worse. Tests should be coming back any minute now. Seeing as you're next of kin," he said to the fox, "They should be coming to get you first."

Bogo looked up and saw four wolves enter the ER, looking around frantically for any help. He recognized worried parents when he saw them. Wolford was the spitting image of his father, and Lupez's parents were both snowy white...and both sets of parents were _this close_ to losing their composure, whether that meant bursting into tears or threatening any passing medical professional to show them to their respective offspring. The buffalo excused himself and greeted the parents and quickly explained the situation. Wolford's mother was in tears by the end, his father standing tall and stoic; it was clear where the younger Wolford got it from. Lupez's parents on the other hand were the exact opposite: the father looked crestfallen and heartbroken to think his little girl was dangerously sick, and her mother was desperately trying to maintain her self-control.

Without another word, Bogo escorted them to the ICU. He hated calls like this, he absolutely loathed them. When he was still a beat cop, the worst part of his job had always been informing families when their loved ones were hurt or worse, and every single one of those grieving families was ingrained in his memory for the rest of his days. If there was any justice, these two families wouldn't be torn apart as well. If the universe was fair, this would be the absolute last bad thing he would have to do tonight.

He frowned when he saw who was waiting for him outside the entrance to the ICU: a male bighorn sheep wearing a smart suit and a stern look.

 _The universe can sod off,_ Bogo internally grumbled. "Mr. and Mrs. Wolford, Mr. and Mrs. Lupez," he said to the parents, "I'm afraid I need to take care of this. Nurse Wilde here will escort you in."

Helen Wilde had noticed the bighorn sheep as well, and shared Bogo's frown. She focused her attention on the four wolves instead, and led them through the swinging double doors.

The bighorn sheep turned away to watch the wolves enter, then turned back to the police chief. "Did you say their names were Wolford and Lupez?" the ram asked.

"That's correct," Bogo said quietly.

"The same officers investigating the Wilde case?"

"Also correct."

The ram turned back to look at the buffalo. "I hope you have a backup plan."

"Don't worry about it. I have it under control."

The ram raised a brow. "Not from where I'm standing. Two of your officers are gravely ill, as is my client, all complaining of the same symptoms…Chief Bogo, you can't set this case aside. The DA is chomping at the bit to go to trial—"

"Then Ovis will have to wait, won't he?" Bogo snapped.

The ram shook his horned head. "He's going to find a way around this. He'll go to trial, evidence or no evidence, with or without the defendant present."

"Ovis isn't that stupid."

"No, but he's desperate," the bighorn continued. "It's an election year, and he wants one more conviction under his belt to prove that he's 'tough on crime'." The smaller ungulate snorted. "I don't know what Lionheart was thinking…"

"He wasn't," Bogo said sharply. Then he sighed and softened his glare, just a little. "Russ, why are you here?"

F. Russell Burnram was probably the only animal in the city government that Bogo actually trusted, and that said something. It was one thing to like someone – Councilman Elkton, for example – but it was another to trust them. And Bogo trusted Burnram. The bighorn sheep had followed what Bogo thought was the oddest career path: family law, to defense attorney, to prosecutor. And now the ram was seeking to unseat District Attorney Lambert Ovis, a sheep that was twice as ruthless as any wolf Bogo had ever known, with enough convictions under his woolly belt to ensure his reelection. Burnram, on the other hand, had the one thing Ovis lacked: integrity.

Although right now, the bighorn was positively puzzled. "Beg pardon?"

"Why are you here?" the buffalo repeated.

"My client is here, and I have—"

"That's not what I meant. You're a prosecutor, not a defense attorney. They told me you're doing this _pro bono_ …why?"

Burnram just smiled. "I owed Helen Wilde a favor."

"Must be a hell of a favor."

"It was. But I can never pay her back for everything she's done for me and my family. If she wants me to represent her ex-husband in his time of need, I'll do it, no questions asked." He fell silent and looked through the doors at the busy ICU. "Ovis has gone on record saying that he'll hold the trial without my client's presence if it comes to it."

This was troubling. It wouldn't be the first time DA Ovis had pulled a move like this and it wouldn't be the last as long as he still held office. Bogo knew that voters only seemed to care that the sheep District Attorney got convictions…not that a good half of those convictions were overturned on appeal. And that most of those convictions involved predators. _Maybe my neighbor was right about that sheep conspiracy,_ he mused, thinking of his crackpot honey badger neighbor. He shook his head. He _must_ be tired if he was thinking that Honey, of all mammals, was right about something. Instead, he asked, "He's really skirting the bounds of the law, isn't he?"

The ram shrugged and sighed. "It's what he's good at. It's how he keeps getting reelected. Zootopia easily forgives its leaders."

"Too easily," Bogo ground out, recalling Leodore Lionheart's role in the Night Howler case, and how easily he got off. "Lionheart should still be in prison."

The bighorn shrugged. "Politics, what can you do? But you're ignoring the elephant in the room."

"What's that?"

Burnram pointed over his shoulder and the buffalo turned. "Oh, Francine, didn't see you there. All right?"

Francine Trunkaby pointed back at the waiting room. "Wilde's been asking if he can go in and visit. Not sure if he means Wolford or..."

"Tell him yes," the Chief said. "I'd like a word with him and Hopps anyway. If she's still here, tell her to come along." _Not like there's a chance he'll come alone_ , he thought as Francine walked back into the waiting room. When he turned back around, Burnram was staring at him."What?" he asked at the ram's quizzical look.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing."

"Russell, if I gave a damn about your opinion, I'd ask for it. You wanted officers to investigate Redd Wilde's case, and you'll get them. If Ovis isn't going to wait—"

"John, that's not the issue!" Burnram snapped. "The ethical ramifications—"

"—will fall on _my_ head, not theirs, and not yours," the buffalo interrupted. "I accept full responsibility for their actions, and if they bugger it up, I will resign in disgrace. Happy?"

"What? No! How could that…" he trailed off, then shook his head in disbelief. He was a lawyer, but he knew that no one, not even Clarence Burro, could win an argument against Chief John Bogo of the ZPD. "As your friend, and an attorney with over two decades of experience, I'm telling you that you are making a _huge_ mistake. Any defense attorney will see an officer running the investigation of his own father and immediately throw the prosecution's case back in their faces. This is a liability, a _serious_ conflict of interest, and the officer's bias and impartiality will come into question when this goes to trial."

"There's nothing stopping him, or me," Bogo reminded.

"Legally, no, you're right. There are no laws saying he can't…but that doesn't mean he _should_." Burnram shook his horned head. "This isn't a game, John, this is life or death, and my client's life is on the line here. And if we want justice for those five victims…"

"Russ, I'm perfectly aware of the potential conflict of interest," Bogo said seriously, "And believe me, I didn't make this decision lightly. You have nothing to worry about, and neither does Ovis. Besides, this isn't the first time a case like this has come up, and it's never been a problem."

"Yet." The ram looked between the doors to the ICU and the doors to the waiting room. The corridor was empty, save the two of them. "Fine," he said in defeat. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

The buffalo was inwardly relieved, but hid that relief behind his usual glare. "I know what I'm doing. But you need to promise me something."

"Name it."

Bogo looked him in the eye and made his position very clear: "Win that election."

* * *

This was the worst night of his life by far. Nick's hands had been shaking since Elliot Wolford hit the floor in Keith McHorn's house. That was how he knew they had gotten to him: seeing the wolf's motionless body on the floor of that kitchen and the shouts and sirens…

Nick had frozen.

They had warned him about that at the academy, that there would come a time where in the heat of the moment, all the training would be forgotten and all a creature could do was just…stand there…frozen. Unable to move, unable to think, unable to act. Veteran officers like McHorn and Higgins were able to help their friend, and it made Nick feel sick that the one moment when he needed to help his fellow officer, he had been completely useless.

Nick felt Judy climb up into the seat he occupied and wordlessly wrapped her arms around him. He gratefully returned the hug. He now understood why police officers got so upset when one of their own was hurt or sick. Seeing Wolford completely collapse on McHorn's kitchen floor and being utterly powerless to stop it or do anything else had been absolute torture. It was nothing compared to what the wolf had gone through, of course, but it still bothered the fox. Thankfully, tonight, he had Judy by his side to make it all feel better...at least a little.

"Thanks, Carrots," he said as he squeezed a little harder.

She hugged him back, a little tighter, then let go. "We were actually at Ollie's place, when we got the call saying what had happened to Wolford," she explained. "We were originally going to happy hour, but she wasn't feeling well, so we brought happy hour to her. My idea."

Nick smiled fondly. "Of course it was."

Judy gently jabbed him with her elbow. "When we got the call, there was nothing stopping her, she was a wolf on a mission."

"So safe to say they're really a thing, huh?"

"She loves him, Nick, I don't doubt that for a second." She fell silent and looked up into McHorn and Higgins' stony faces. "Have there been any updates?"

"Nurse Wilde has been by a couple times," Higgins said, "And she said they're both responding well to the oxygen, but they're waiting for lab results to come back."

"That was over an hour ago," McHorn snorted. "What's taking so damn long?"

"Lab work takes time," the hippo assured him. "I'm sure they're working on it as fast as they can. I'd rather they get it right than rush through it and get it wrong."

"And Mom's an excellent nurse," Nick said with conviction. "Wol—Elliot's in good paws." It felt strange, now, referring to him by his last name. After an experience like that, calling the wolf anything but his given name seemed...disrespectful.

After a few more minutes, the door to the waiting room opened and Bogo emerged, with Francine in tow. The buffalo pointed at the fox and bunny and barked out his orders. "You two, with me. The rest of you, go home."

Judy hopped down off the chair first and Nick clambered after. He waved goodbye to the other officers and followed the buffalo into the ICU.

"Robert Wilde's test results came back," Bogo said as soon as they were alone. "They found something very interesting, and you two are going to finish what Wolford and Lupez started."

Nick stopped in his tracks. "Sorry, what?"

"I said—"

"Yeah, I heard what you said, but are you _insane_?"

" _Nick_!" Judy hissed.

"Chief, you can't be suggesting—"

"I'm not suggesting," Bogo cut him off, "I'm ordering. I am _ordering_ you to take over the case."

"But regulations—" Nick would normally have kicked himself; he was starting to sound like his partner, always caring too much about regulations and following the rules. But here was his boss, who had put the fear of God into him concerning following said rules, telling him to effectively say "screw it" and ignore the rules altogether.

"Any ethical fallout will be on me, not you," Bogo said as he turned to look at them. "I trust you can remain professional?"

" _None_ of this is professional," Nick snapped. "You want me to investigate my own father, while convincing him to take a deal? None of this is ethical, none of this is…is _right_!" Just as he had that night in the Rainforest District, Nick stood as tall as he could and called out the much larger mammal. "I should refuse. I should—"

"It's carbon monoxide poisoning."

The buffalo's statement quickly took the wind out of his sails. Nick blinked. Then he blinked again. "What?"

Bogo repeated, "Your father – and I suspect Wolford and Lupez – has carbon monoxide poisoning."

"But…how is that possible?" Judy asked in bewilderment. "For each of them to _still_ be exhibiting symptoms, and this badly, they would have to have been exposed all day."

"That's what you're going to figure out," Bogo said, leading them towards the guarded room. "As of now, you're not investigating a murder, as much as the DA wants it." The buffalo sounded a little _too_ pleased to say that. "You're investigating why two of your fellow officers and the suspect they arrested are all hospitalized with carbon monoxide poisoning more than twenty-four hours after the arrest." He nodded to the uniformed guards surrounding Redd Wilde's room. "And now, you get to catch up with Dear Old Dad."

"Swell," Nick muttered under his breath.

The door swung open and the two smaller mammals stepped inside. Redd Wilde was awake, though still groggy from the sedation. One wrist was handcuffed to the bed, entangled with an IV tube and wires monitoring his pulse and lungs. An oxygen mask was fitted over his muzzle, and he still looked to be in rough shape. The older fox raised his free hand up to take the mask off long enough to croak out a greeting.

"Hey, kids."

"Mr. Wilde," Judy said civilly.

Nick didn't say a word. The younger fox climbed up into a chair next to the hospital bed and looked into his father's pale face. After a long moment, he finally said something. "You got some of your color back."

Redd took in a deep, labored breath, and exhaled heavily. "That makes me feel a little bit better. Think I scared those cops back at the station."

"You shouldn't be talking," Nick said. "Doc says you have carbon monoxide poisoning."

Redd's eyes suddenly widened and he sat up quickly. "What?! How—" he cut off into a severe coughing fit. Nick hurriedly grabbed the oxygen mask and fitted it over his father's muzzle again. He waited until Redd had taken enough oxygen and calmed down enough to sink back into the pillows. "How is that possible?" Redd finally asked. "There wasn't any gas in that place, all electric."

"You're sure about that?" Nick asked.

"I was the handy-mammal there, I would know what kind of power Larry used."

Judy hopped up into the chair to stand next to Nick. "So you saw an electric meter during your work there?"

Redd shrugged. "Larry just needed someone to fix leaky faucets and make minor repairs. I'm no good with electrical stuff, but I can do plumbing pretty damn well. He hired another guy for the other stuff."

"Who was the other guy?" Judy asked.

Redd fell silent, frowned, and took another quick hit of the oxygen before saying with an exhale, "Bill Shanks."

Nick stared at him, horrorstruck. "Hogsden trusted _Bill Shanks_ to do electrical work?"

"Yeah, I know, he's – was – a high-functioning alcoholic," Redd admitted. "But he was _high-functioning_ , see? That skunk could still do the work. Whether he was any good…well, I dunno. But he was the guy Larry trusted."

Nick turned to Judy and gave her a quick look, which she interpreted to mean that while he was horrified by these facts, he wasn't surprised at all. Turning back to his father, he asked, "So you have no idea how carbon monoxide got into that apartment?"

The older fox shook his head, looking puzzled as well as pale. "Not a clue. 'Course, I guess maybe it was that heater we used…but it was some tiny little thing Larry got on clearance. Barely strong enough to heat up a half-bath. So maybe not that…"

"Did it plug into the wall?"

"Don't all space heaters?"

Nick sighed and shook his head. "Redd, it's an electric space heater. Those aren't likely to kill you with gas."

Redd shrugged again. "Don't look at me, I'm no expert."

"You worked in a factory—"

"A _candy_ factory," Redd corrected. "Assembly line, quality checker. Remember I used to bring home some of the rejects that didn't quite make the cut? All the misshaped gummies, kooky-looking chocolate bunnies or Santa Claws chocolates, remember those?" The older fox chuckled, "Your mom used to give me hell for giving you so much candy. But I never gave you anything I wouldn't eat myself."

Something seemed to click in Nick's eyes. "That one Halloween…I had the flu, and was too sick to go trick or treating…"

"…So I brought some candy home from the factory and told you the Great Pumpkin made sure all the kids got candy on Halloween," Redd said with a small smile, fondly remembering. He sighed softly and gave Nick a sad yet hopeful smile. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"Those didn't last," Nick said harshly.

Redd lowered his gaze, staring at the hospital bedsheets. "No, they didn't. Damn outsourcing…" he shook his head. "I worked at that factory since I was sixteen, never did finish high school, and once that factory closed down…who would hire a fox with no skills and no diploma? Did you finish high school?"

"Yes. Even had a semester of college before I dropped out. Ran out of money."

Judy looked sharply at her partner. _How did I not know that? Why didn't he tell me?_ she wondered.

Redd nodded. "Good. Well, at least you tried. Shame about the college though. You would've been the first Wilde to get a degree."

"Mom's a registered nurse."

"She's a Greene, not a Wilde. She had that education and a few years of nursing under her belt before she married my scruffy 'ole hide." He fell silent a moment, then asked, "You got a girlfriend?"

"Why do you ask?" Nick testily responded.

Redd rolled his eyes and took in more oxygen. "Just askin'. When you do get a nice vixen, take some advice from your old fox: if you're gonna marry her, wait longer than your mother and I did."

"How long did you…?"

"Six weeks."

"Sorry, six _what_?" Now Nick was absolutely horrified.

Redd ruefully smiled. "We were in love. We thought we'd show 'em all. Heh, we were too young and naïve to really think it through. Or I was, anyway. Your mom was always much more mature. Old soul, even when she was young. Must be why she looked so sad all the time, in her eyes. Like she's got the weight of the world on her shoulders…"

"We're getting off-topic," Judy said after clearing her throat. "Forgetting how the carbon monoxide got into the apartment, can you tell us why all those mammals were there?"

Redd frowned at her. "I nearly died tonight, and now you're interrogating me? This is ridiculous…"

"Dad," Nick soothed, putting a hand on his father's shoulder. "Judy just wants to help you, just like me. And besides, you're not the only one in the hospital tonight. The two officers who brought you in, they're here too, and probably also have what you have. We don't know yet, their tests haven't come back yet."

Redd started to look pale again, and took several deep breaths from the oxygen mask again before he was ready to talk. When he did, his throat seemed dry. "Will they live?"

Judy spoke up, "If the tests come back positive for carbon monoxide, and we treat them in time...well, I'm not a doctor," she smiled hopefully, "But they should make a full recovery."

Nick gave her a sharp look. There was no way she could know that for sure. She returned his look. She _knew_ that she couldn't be sure, but she was saying it for Redd's benefit.

The fox was shaking his head, "If anything happens to those cops, I'm dead. I'm a dead fox walking...they'll blame me, y'know," Redd said, starting to panic. "The only survivor. They'll blame me, and this city will string me up from the nearest light pole-"

" _None_ of that is going to happen," Judy interrupted. " _We_ won't let that happen. Nick and I will talk to Chief Bogo and make sure you're safe. Everyone deserves a fair trial. You just focus on getting better, don't worry about the case, we'll take it from here."

"They're going to let you investigate a case your old fox is involved in?" Redd asked his son. "I thought that was against the rules?"

"We'll be in touch," Nick said without giving him an answer, and hopped down off the chair. Judy followed, but paused at the door to look back at Redd. The older fox still looked worried, but laid back and sank deep into the pillows. He looked even more worn and scruffier than before. Judy recognized the look in his sharp eyes as he looked back at her: defeat. She flashed him what she hoped looked like an optimistic smile before she left the room.

She didn't want to think that she couldn't deliver on her promises.

* * *

Wolford was finally awake, but he was barely listening as his doctor talked to him about his lab results and his subsequent treatment. The lupine officer's eyes rested on his partner, who was sleeping in the hospital bed next to his. Lupez looked ghostly behind her oxygen mask, her already pale face looking even more ashen, and her chest rising and falling with labored breathing. If not for the machines tracking her heartbeat and breathing, anyone would have taken her for dead. And Wolford looked ready to cry.

There was no longer any doubt in Nick's mind as he and his partner stood watching through the open doorway. Watching the two wolves together, it was obvious they liked each other. But it still came as a shock just how dedicated they were; certainly the fox never expected the stoic, often stern wolf to be so openly...in love. Nick knew that look. He was sure he looked at Judy the same way that Elliot Wolford was looking at Olivia Lupez. Like there would be no point in living if he ever lost her.

Judy gently nudged him and tugged on his sleeve. "Your mom's waiting outside, she wants to talk to us," she whispered. The bunny looked up to the lupine patients and sighed. "We can visit with them later."

"Yeah, sure," he replied noncommittally. He felt like he was intruding on something, but at the same time...he wanted to be there, even if there was nothing he could do. _But you can do something,_ he suddenly remembered, _You can figure out just what happened to them._

Helen was waiting for them outside the room, standing by the nurses' station. The vixen brushed off her green scrubs and looked up from her clipboard as the two small officers joined her. "How are you two doing?" she asked.

"Fine," Nick said a little too quickly. "Are those the test results?"

His mother pursed her lips but didn't push it. "Chief Bogo told me you were taking over the case for them."

"We are. Is he still here?"

"He left not too long ago. He waited until we got the results back from the lab."

"And let me guess: carbon monoxide poisoning?"

Helen tapped her nose and read off the paperwork. "Their carboxyhaemoglobin levels were dangerously high, over 25 percent, 30 percent indicates severe exposure. I shudder to think how bad it was just a couple hours ago. They're both very lucky. If they'd waited even another hour, they'd probably be dead." Helen paused and shook her head. "They are very, _very_ lucky."

"What about CSI?" Judy asked. "Were any of them admitted? Or anyone else who was at the crime scene?"

"Chief Bogo just sent out the order that all personnel who were at the scene for any length of time are to come here, get tested, and if necessary, get treatment." The vixen looked over the clipboard again. "Carbon monoxide exposure isn't something to kid around with, even if you were only exposed for five minutes. It's always better to be safe than sorry."

"One thing that doesn't make any sense," Nick said, hands on his hips. "Is how _Redd_ is still alive? He was in that apartment for at least six, seven hours, tops. By all rights, he should be dead."

Helen sighed and set the clipboard aside. "I don't know. As far as the doctors are concerned, it's a medical miracle. The fact he not only survived a night trapped in an apartment with a gas leak, then just got up and walked out with no obvious side effects, only to be affected hours later? None of this makes sense; I've never seen anything like this, and I've been a nurse for over thirty years."

"Redd also said that the building didn't use gas, that it was all electric," Nick continued. "Though I guess as a handy-mammal, he would know."

Helen stared at him like he had grown two heads. "Redd...a handy-mammal? _Redd_?"

"Is that surprising?" Judy asked.

"Are you kidding?" Helen laughed. "He barely knows how to use a hammer!"

Judy frowned. "He said he did a lot of plumbing work and general repairs…"

The vixen snorted. "My eye…" She paused. "Although I suppose it _is_ possible he may have picked up those skills at some point over the last two decades, though I doubt it. Your father never was one to apply himself. He can be frustratingly lazy."

Nick and Judy shared a look, and Judy saw something in her partner's eyes that bothered her. When they had left Redd's room, Nick looked like he had believed him, trusted him, and now this new information was shaking the already perilous foundation of that belief. Nick sighed and asked his mother, "He never worked in a candy factory, did he?"

Helen had turned away for a moment, but froze. Judy didn't recognize it right away, but Nick did. He lowered his ears. "I thought so."

"Nick," Helen said as she turned back to him and took his hand in hers. "Your father is many things - a liar, most certainly - but he still cared about you."

"Did he love me?"

Helen hesitated, looking lost in her own thoughts. From Judy's perspective, the vixen was answering for the both of them: "He loved you as much as he knew how. He may have loved us both at some point...as much as he knew how to love." She looked into her son's eyes. "But you understand that no matter what has happened or will happen, _I_ love you, and I will never _stop_ loving you."

Nick gave her a half-hearted smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Thanks, Mom." He paused again, then asked, "Where _did_ he work? What kind of factory?"

"Engine parts, I believe. They manufactured _some_ kind of parts. And there _was_ a candy factory...Mr. Swift worked there. Of course, the poor weasel had to travel all the way to the Rainforest District for work after they moved the factory to be closer to the cacao farms…"

"Richard Swift?" Judy asked, taking out her notepad and pen. "And you said the Swifts were your neighbors?"

"Yes, Rich and Molly, both very, very sweet," Helen said, "And they had their faults and flaws, but they were always so kind to us."

"As kind as weasels can be, anyway," Nick said.

His mother frowned at him. "Now I _know_ I taught you better than that."

"So did Rich."

Helen closed her eyes and shook her head. "Of course, they used to babysit, so of _course_ you picked up something from him… The sarcasm," she explained to Judy. "Bless his soul, that weasel could throw sarcasm like a curveball."

"Did he and Redd ever work together?" Judy asked.

"Dad mentioned coming home with candy…" Nick said.

Helen closed her eyes again, a pained look crossing her face. Clearly she was not happy having to deliver bad news and a dose of reality. "That candy came from Rich. Redd...just took the credit. Rich and Molly never did have kids - it tore Molly apart, poor thing - so I think they always thought of you as their own."

Nick was visibly thinking back to that time, and a few things clicked into place. "Rich kept bringing candy after Redd left...but he said it came from Redd."

"I don't know why he did that," Helen said. "At this point, I don't know if I wish he _didn't_ lie to you, or if I should be grateful he _did_. All I know is that, whatever his reasons, Richard Swift cared a great deal for you. And Molly loved you, too."

Nick didn't say anything right away. Judy decided to break up the uncomfortable silence by clearing her throat and asking her,

"Is it true that Zootopia doesn't use natural gas anymore?"

Helen glanced at her, momentarily confused, then realized, "Oh, that's right, you're from the Burrows...they must still use natural gas out there."

"Yeah," Judy said uncertainly, not sure why the foxes were giving her such strange looks, "We use it for heating and electric, and for the farm equipment. But are there _really_ no buildings run on gas here?"

"There shouldn't be, not after the fuss they made back when I was a kit myself," Helen said. "Maybe a few historic buildings still have it, but almost every single building in Zootopia was retrofitted for electric power, supplied by renewable energy. There was a big push for reliable renewable energy sources...well, around the time Nick was born, actually." She glanced at her son while Judy was scribbling down notes. "I recall a lot of mammals fought the change; electric is much more expensive than gas is, as I understand, but money talks...including generous tax breaks."

"So the city relies entirely on renewable energy?" Judy asked with amazement. The idea that a huge metropolis like Zootopia could shine so brightly without the use of fossil fuels, like she was used to back home, was astounding. Helen could clearly see what the rabbit was thinking. Nick, however, couldn't help but get in a little ribbing:

"What, the expert on all things Zootopia didn't know that?" he teased, earning himself a quick jab to the ribs. "Ow! Police brutality!"

"If you're able to joke around," Judy said shortly, "Then you're just fine."

Rubbing his side, Nick sucked in a breath and coughed. "All ribbing aside-" (Judy rolled her eyes at the pun) "-each district has its own energy source. Sahara Square uses solar, Rainforest District is hydroelectric, and Tundra Town uses thermal-"

" _Thermal_?"

Helen nodded. "Oh yes, they're known for their hot springs. Of course, they're also incredibly exclusive - most have been…'borrowed'...by the city to provide energy, and what's left is all in private hands."

"Mr. Big owns most of them," Nick whispered to Judy. She wasn't at all surprised. But she pondered aloud,

"I wonder if Mr. Hogsden still used gas? If I remember correctly...yes, here it is," she said as she flipped through her notes. "It was cold that night, so they had a space heater and...propped open the oven for heat."

Helen shrugged. "I've done that before, but I have an electric range. I didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to do that with a gas range, assuming one exists in city limits..."

"Redd _did_ say they had been drinking," Nick said.

"That could explain it, too," Helen said, crossing her arms. "Alcohol can exacerbate carbon monoxide poisoning. And stupid decisions."

Judy stopped scribbling notes and perked her ears up as an idea came to her. The foxes faded into the background as her mind went into overdrive. Things were starting to fit together, like puzzle pieces without a reference picture. But she was getting a very good idea…

"Don't you two have work tomorrow?" Helen asked, looking at her watch. "It's after midnight."

Judy looked up at Nick and both sighed. "I guess we can get in a couple hours of sleep before our shift starts…" Nick said tiredly. Now that the adrenaline and fear had subsided, he was finally beginning to feel the fatigue brought on by stress and restless sleep. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to him.

But Judy was a rabbit on a mission; once she had a lead, she was not one to just let it go. She had survived on very little sleep during the Night Howler case, surely she could handle it again. She was already planning the next step: "First thing I want to do in the morning is-"

"Get a _ton_ of coffee," Nick cut her off, starting to push her to the door. "We can crash at my place. You take the bed, _no arguments_ , cotton tail, I mean it…"

Judy huffed in defeat and let him lead her out. She looked over her shoulder at Helen, who looked just as worried and long-suffering as Judy felt. Still, the vixen offered her a smile and watched them leave just as she had done the first time she met Judy: like a protective mother watching over her children.

* * *

Weariness finally caught up with Judy by the time they got back to the Pangolin Arms. Nick's apartment was in the basement, which suited both of them; by now, Judy's energy had depleted, and she didn't have the fortitude to climb three flights of stairs and deal with her loud neighbors at one in the morning. It said something to their combined exhaustion that Nick completely forgot about his prior belief that she should take his bed, and she alone. They both fell onto his bed, and were both asleep as soon as their heads hit the mattress.

Just a few short hours later, Judy groaned when Nick's alarm went off. She was wrapped up inside a warm blanket, hugging something equally warm and soft. It took several minutes before her sleep-addled mind realized she was hugging Nick.

She was now wide awake. She remembered the circumstances of how they got there, however innocent they were: they were both still fully clothed, in the same clothes they had been wearing the night before, but Nick was still fast asleep, and lightly snoring. He looked...adorable, and Judy marveled at how much younger and peaceful he looked when he was asleep. It wasn't the first time she had thought this. Twenty-four hours earlier, she was the first to wake up, in the bed they had shared in Helen's apartment, and she had watched him sleep in the dim half-light of the early morning, just as she was watching him now. At some point in the night, just as the previous night, he had wrapped both of them up inside a cocoon of blankets and pillows, subconsciously making a fox den to sleep in.

Now, however, the alarm was blaring loud enough to wake him. He stirred, groaning like a B-movie monster rising from deep slumber, and reached his arm out for his phone to hit snooze. He flopped back over, draped his arm over her and let out a tired sigh.

As much as she wanted to stay like this, nice and warm in his arms...in his bed...Judy knew they had a job to do, sleep deprivation be damned. She gently shook his shoulder. "Nick…"

"Mmph…" he grumbled sleepily. "Five more minutes…"

"Uh-uh," she said, still sleepy herself. "We both know how this ends. You say five minutes, and I come back five minutes later, you say five minutes again, and I come back...and then it's _ten_ minutes. And I drag you out of bed by your tail. We need to get up."

"Murfphm…" he grumbled again.

Judy sighed theatrically, rolled her eyes, and played her trump card. "I'll make you blueberry pancakes."

His ears perked up and he opened his eyes. That sly, sleepy smile spread across his lips. "You had me at pancakes."

* * *

The bullpen was subdued for the second time in as many days, but each officer had a different reason. Those that had been visiting at the hospital the night before looked dead on their feet, and the dark circles under their eyes bore testament to their respective sleepless nights. The other officers had heard through the grapevine (and Clawhauser) that two of their own were hospitalized and very sick. It was never easy knowing one of your brethren was hurt, even worse not knowing what was wrong with them to begin with.

Like the rest of them, Chief Bogo looked like he hadn't slept a wink. He looked too tired to even bark orders at them. He solemnly gave out their assignments and stifled yawns as best as he could...though that was a losing battle.

"And for the love of all that is holy," he remarked before dismissing them, "brew more coffee before you leave."

"I think Clawhauser is on it," Snarlov said from the back of the room.

Bogo managed to crack a smile. "Bless that cheetah and all of his ancestors. Dismissed - and get some coffee, the lot of you. You look like hell."

This earned him a few half-hearted chuckles as the officers dispersed, but first formed a caravan towards the coffee makers dotted throughout the precinct. Bogo happened to share the same one Nick and Judy were using. The pair had eaten breakfast at the diner (Nick got his pancakes, Judy her favorite waffles), and downed a full pot of coffee between them. It still wasn't enough.

"How many cups does that make so far?" Nick asked.

"Four," Judy said tiredly, not bothering to hold back a yawn. "Not including this one."

Bogo just poured the dark roast into a mug and downed it, not bothering with cream or sugar. "Once you two are sufficiently caffeinated, go meet Clawhauser, he'll give you the case file and you can go from there."

"Is there such a thing as 'sufficiently caffeinated'?" Nick asked.

"Not today there isn't," the buffalo dryly said. "So suck it up and get to work. Oh, and Wilde?" he added as an afterthought as he walked away, "Take the cruiser, but go out through the garage. The circus is back in town."

Nick groaned, then Judy asked, "What circus?"

"The media," the fox grumbled. "They've been hounding me for an interview because of Redd. Now with him and Wolford and Lupez all hospitalized, they'll be hunting me down."

"Well we can't have that," said the rabbit as she chugged her fifth cup of coffee. She crushed the paper cup in her paws and tossed it in the recycle bin. "Come on, let's get to our first stop…"

* * *

"Well, here we are," Judy said as she parked the cruiser. It was only her second trip to the city morgue and medical examiner's office. Nick had been there before, too, several times in fact; he'd had to identify too many friends over the years. Nick took out the case file Clawhauser had given them earlier that morning and reviewed the notes, and Wolford and Lupez's reports. He shared the reports with Judy while he took another look at the crime scene photos.

"Aside from dead bodies lying everywhere, nothing seems out of the ordinary," he said, now slightly more alert.

"Wolford's report says otherwise," Judy said. She frowned. "But this is really sloppy. Lupez's too. Normally her handwriting is much better."

"What about Wolford's?"

"It's his usual scrawl. But it looks...shaky." She looked up at her partner. "They must have already been feeling the effects of the carbon monoxide since early yesterday morning."

"Higgins did say that they looked like hell most of the day. Did Lupez say anything to you last night before you took her to the hospital?"

Judy shook her head, "Just that she wasn't feeling well, and hadn't been from the night before."

"When they had the hot date," Nick said with a smirk.

Judy rolled her eyes. "Really? _Now_ , of all times…?"

"Hey, that was the easiest fifty bucks I've ever made," the fox protested, patting his wallet. Clawhauser had been both annoyed to pay out, and yet characteristically overjoyed when he learned that the wolves' date had evidently gone exceedingly well.

Nick looked up at the low brick building again and sighed through his nose. "So...here we go…"

"Yup. Let's get this over with."

They stepped out of the vehicle and plodded to the front door. Flashing their badges at the front desk, they were led down into the basement, where the autopsies were performed. Given the diversity in Zootopia, different departments within the Medical Examiner's office served different sizes of mammals. There was only one official M.E., who oversaw all the others: one for large mammals, one for medium mammals, one for small mammals, and one that primarily served Little Rodentia. The two officers were led to the wing for the small mammals.

The room was frigid, and the walls were lined with sterile white tiles and stainless steel refrigerators, each slot numbered and labeled with the name of the deceased occupant. There were currently five bodies on five gurneys covered with white sheets, toe tags clearly visible. Nick barely suppressed a shudder, but Judy caught it. She briefly took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered.

"It's my job, Carrots," he replied. "I promised I would do my job, and be professional about it." He took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."

The medical examiner that was waiting for them was a raccoon, dressed head to toe in scrubs. She removed her muzzle mask and greeted them: "Officers Hopps and Wilde?"

"That's us," Judy said, showing her ID. Nick mirrored her, and chose to ignore the look on the raccoon's face when she saw him. The raccoon still regarded him carefully, but offered her hand to shake.

"Dr. Ranger, nice to meet you."

"We've met," Nick said.

"We have?"

"Last year, guy named Sean Todd, I came in to ID the body…"

Recognition dawned on her face. "Oh, that's right...I'm still very sorry for your loss. He was a childhood friend of yours, wasn't he?"

"Are the autopsy results in for the victims at 703 Oasis Drive?" he asked, deftly deflecting and keeping his face a perfect mask. He wouldn't look at Judy. The medical examiner blinked a couple times, then remembered where they were.

"Oh, uh, yes...but I thought there were two other officers on this case…"

"Officers Wolford and Lupez, who were originally assigned the case, were both hospitalized last night," Judy explained. "Carbon monoxide poisoning."

Dr. Ranger's eyes widened. "My god...are they alright?"

"They will be," the bunny said. "Doctors said they were lucky they caught it in time. Last we heard they were responding well to treatment, and not expected to suffer any lasting effects."

She sighed. "Well, that's good. And a very odd coincidence. I already called the DA's office and told them my results," she picked up a folder and started reading it off. "This was no murder: accidental deaths due to asphyxia by carbon monoxide. The charges against the suspect should be officially dropped later today.

"What's surprising is the state the bodies came in. All five victims showed high blood alcohol, one of them dangerously high…"

"The skunk, Bill Shanks?" Nick guessed.

"How did you know?" Ranger asked, mystified.

"Another old friend, if you could call him that."

The raccoon set the folder down and said flat-out, "Officer, if you'd rather not be here for this, I'd understand. No one would hold it against you…"

"I'm here to do my job," he said tersely.

Judy cleared her throat and tried to dissuade the tense atmosphere. "Could we get the full report, please? Just the rundown before it's officially filed?"

The raccoon nodded, giving Nick one last concerned look, before beginning. "Of course. Judging from the rigor mortis, I estimated time of death to be between 12:00 and 1:00 AM yesterday morning…"

"So soon?" Judy asked. "The notes here say they got together for drinks at the apartment sometime around 11:00 the night before."

"Yes, that's true, but there was such a concentration of carbon monoxide and alcohol in their bodies that it's likely, given their sizes, that it didn't take very long to succumb. All five were also immunocompromised."

Nick and Judy shared a look. "In what way?" Nick asked.

Dr. Ranger sighed. "I hope you have strong stomachs...let's start with Mr. Shanks, 68." She led them to a table with a sheet-draped body. "If you'll look at the photos of his liver…"

Judy gasped and Nick held a hand over his mouth. "What the hell is…?"

"That," the doctor said, "Is advanced cirrhosis of the liver. His kidneys were also in terrible shape. Not unusual for a long-time alcoholic. I wager if the carbon monoxide didn't kill him, the alcohol he consumed that night would have.

"Ms. Reed, 59," she continued onto the next victim, "also showed signs of liver damage, but nowhere near as bad as Mr. Shanks," she continued to the next table. "Some signs of alcohol abuse, but I'm told she was a recovering alcoholic. What I didn't expect to find," she showed them another picture, "was lung cancer."

Nick looked stricken, and grabbed hold of the table. "That…can't be possible," he said. "She never smoked."

The raccoon said solemnly, "Lung cancer _is_ more common in smokers, but it can happen in nonsmokers as well. Air pollution is typically the culprit."

Judy's ears drooped; she remembered how Nick had first reacted to the news that his old teacher was dead. She couldn't imagine how he must be feeling knowing that the deceased had been sick, and likely for a long time. "That's...that's horrible," was all she could say.

Dr. Ranger nodded sadly. "She's not the first I've seen, and won't be the last, I'm afraid." She paused and again looked at Nick. "Are you _sure_ you're alright?"

He nodded and swallowed hard. "Who's next?"

"Mrs. Swift, 62." She handed him the weasel's autopsy photo, and watched him carefully.

Nick's jaw dropped. "She's...so thin. What happened?"

"Pancreatic cancer."

Both officers looked at her in surprise. The raccoon sighed. "End stages. She had maybe weeks to live, if that."

Nick pointed at the table she was standing next to. "Is that her?"

"Yes," Ranger answered after a pause. Before she could stop him, Nick stepped over and lifted the sheet to look into the weasel's face. He froze. Judy peeked around him and couldn't disguise her gasp. The poor creature would have been a walking skeleton while still alive. The fact she had been sick was obvious. But what was also obvious was just how... _kind_ she looked. It was odd, Judy thought, that even in death, even though she had never met Molly Swift, she could see that this weasel was, as Helen had said, a very sweet person. It showed on her face.

And Nick likely thought the same. He stared into her face for a long, painful moment before replacing the sheet and walking to the door. "I need some air," was all he said before he walked out.

Sometime later, Judy came back outside and found him sitting in the passenger seat of the cruiser, holding his head in his hand. Her ears drooped. Even though her sight wasn't as good as his, she could still see his shoulders shaking. She wordlessly got into the driver's seat and closed the door behind her. Without even looking at him, she filled him in on the rest of Dr. Ranger's findings:

"Mr. Swift was 70, and relatively healthy compared to the others, but his advanced age made him more susceptible to the gas. Mr. Hogsden, 74, was like Mr. Shanks, a life-long alcoholic; but aside from the expected cirrhosis, there were also indications of black mold affecting his respiratory function. Probably not surprising if his properties were infested with mold. His medical history showed he also suffered from sleep apnea, so that, coupled with the alcohol, would have made him doubly vulnerable, despite his size. Dr. Ranger believes he was the first to succumb."

She stared at the wheel before looking over at him.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay." She sat back in the seat, still looking at him. "Who was Sean Todd?"

He finally looked up at her. His eyes were red. "What?"

"When we first went in there, you mentioned someone named Sean Todd. Who was he?"

He hesitated. She sighed and buckled her seatbelt. "You don't have to tell me," she said. "I've long accepted that you won't tell me everything about your past, and I won't push you. You know everything there is to know about me, and sure, it's not fair that I barely know you at all-"

"I don't want you to know me."

Judy stared at him, incredulous. "What? Why?"

He took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, out the windshield. "I don't...I don't want to tell you about my past, because I don't want to think about it. I don't want you to know how bad I was before you came along. I know I'm not that fox anymore, and that's because of you. But I don't want you to know what a monster I was before."

"Nick, you're _not_ a monster," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I would never think that. You've always been good-"

"How would you know that?" he challenged. "You said so yourself, you don't know me at all."

"It's not for lack of trying," she shot back. "Has it occurred to you that your past doesn't matter to me? That I like you just as you are?"

"That's exactly my point. You like me _now_...but if you knew the real me, you wouldn't. If you knew what I was back then, you would have _never_ suggested I become a cop."

Judy fell silent, but didn't remove her hand from his shoulder. "You know, you're right. The me from a year ago probably wouldn't. But I'm _not_ the same person I was a year ago, and neither are you. You said yourself, you've changed. At least one part of you has. The other part hasn't."

"What other part?"

"The part that proves you're not as heartless as you think you are. The part I saw on the gondola in the Rainforest District, the part I saw when you stood up for me...the part I saw when you forgave me for being a colossal idiot." She smiled a little when the corners of his lips twitched upwards, just for a moment. "I know that," she continued, "the bad part of you - the part that scammed me and treated me like crap - that's not there anymore."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because of something Lupez told me, an old story her family's passed down for generations. Would you like to hear it?"

"Not really."

"Too bad." She began, "A grandfather was telling his grandson that deep inside us are two wolves who are constantly at war with each other…"

"Of course a wolf would tell this story."

"Oh shush. One wolf is evil: it represents darkness, despair, anger, fear, lies, and hatred. The other wolf is good: it represents light, hope, joy, kindness, truth, and love. The same fight is going on in every person. The grandson asked, 'Which wolf wins?' And his grandfather said, 'The one you feed.'"

Nick fell silent. He still stared out the window, but Judy could see how hard he was thinking. She finished: "So...which wolf have you been feeding?"

"We should get going to our next stop," he said quickly.

Judy sighed, took her hand off his shoulder, and started the car.

* * *

 **A/N:** Couple things: Redd's defense attorney, the bighorn sheep F. Russell Burnram, was named for the famed conservationist and "Father of American Scouting" Frederick Russell Burnham; since the bighorn sheep is a noble, sacred animal in many Native American cultures, it felt only fitting to make this one an Atticus-Finch-type figure. Also, "Clarence Burro" is a reference to attorney Clarence Darrow, who is perhaps most famous for the defense at the Scopes Evolution Trial, and the Leopold and Loeb trial in Chicago; both of these cases are absolutely fascinating, and I highly recommend reading up on them.

District Attorney Lambert Ovis' name comes from the Latin word for Sheep (Latin name _Ovis aries_ ). And fun fact that I learned while researching names: a "Bellwether" is a sheep, typically the only one in the flock wearing a bell, that leads the rest of the flock; I found it pretty cool, and the animators totally had to know about that, considering how much care and detail they put into the film.

Also, as my readers from the KFP fandom know, I like doing my research (like, _a lot_ ) so everything written in here (and in future chapters) about natural gas vs. electric is as accurate as I understand it to be.

I also had to include one of my favorite stories: the "Two Wolves", supposed to be based on an old Cherokee legend. A lot like the Serenity Prayer, it seemed to fit this story - and Nick's story - pretty well.

As always, please read and review!


	5. Chapter 4

Apologies for this update being a few days late. To make up for it, it's significantly longer than previous chapters. A little more character development, but really moving along on the mystery and solving the case. Warning: Feels ahead.

Disclaimer: Zootopia is owned by Disney, and I make no claims of ownership. This story is just for Ss&Gs. Please read and review!

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

Their next stop was the hospital. Wolford and Lupez were both finally awake, and responding well to oxygen therapy. While the uniformed officers waited for their comrades to get ready to receive them, the rabbit and fox looked over the case file again. Both simultaneously sighed as they tried to make sense of the mismatched and disorganized contents.

"I thought Wolford was more organized than this," Judy said.

"Maybe he gave it to Lupez?" Nick offered. "Either way, both of them were poisoned, so they can't be held up to their usual standards."

Judy closed the file and tucked it under her arm. "I suppose so." She walked into the room first after the doctor had cleared the way. Nick followed, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

The morgue had taken him by complete surprise. Following Finnick's advice to just do his damn job, and do it well, was proving to be harder than he thought. Because as hard as he tried to make sure no one knew they got to him, the fox's involvement with this case made it harder and harder to keep his walls up. Not for the first time that day, he began to question if following the fennec's advice was such a good idea after all.

Wolford gave the pair a little wave as they entered the room. "Hey guys." His voice croaked, clearly still sore, but he looked much better than when he had been admitted.

Lupez, too, was much improved. The wan, ashen pallor was gone, and there was more vibrancy and life on her face and behind her brown eyes. She offered them a smile, too. "Hey, how's it going?"

Now that Nick knew she was a she-wolf, he was kicking himself for not seeing the signs of femininity sooner. Her voice _was_ noticeably deeper than most females, a bit of a husky purr, and the shape of her eyes and gentle curve of her muzzle, jaw, and neck should have all been clues. But, she never wore makeup, never indicated interest in affairs of the heart, and her mannerisms were never stereotypically female. In fact, she made such an effort to be "one of the guys" that most of them had just assumed she _was_ one, and never questioned it.

And Judy had clearly profited on that. The rabbit nimbly jumped up onto the chair next to Lupez's bed, reached into her wallet, and fished out the twenty Fangmeyer had given her. "You called it, here's your winnings. Got it from Fangmeyer the other day."

The white wolf grinned for the first time in days. She accepted the bill and sniffed it. "Ah, the sweet smell of victory…"

"She's got about ten more of those," Wolford said to Nick. "Can you believe so many actually believed she was male?"

"Could you believe how many thought you were gay?" Nick shot back.

"What? No they didn't."

"Clawhauser did."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Damn."

"Yup. Damn, indeed." Nick paused, then cleared his throat and said, "You gave us all a bit of a scare back there. How're you feeling now?"

Wolford seemed just as uncomfortable about the emotional side of things as Nick was. He rubbed at the spot where the IV pierced his skin until Lupez gently rebuked him for messing with it. "I…I'm feeling better. Still a little woozy sometimes, throat hurts like hell, but at least the headache's gone. Ollie was the one I was worried about."

Lupez rolled her eyes. "It wasn't that bad. Once they got the oxygen mask on me, I was fine."

Judy arched a brow. "You looked like Death last night."

"To be fair," the she-wolf said, "I'd had a couple drinks. Which probably didn't help."

"Which I feel guilty for," Judy said, lowering her ears.

"Uh-uh," the white wolf said, "I'm not letting you blame yourself for this, so put those ears back up, kid." Judy's ears rose again as she finally smiled, and Nick sent the she-wolf a grateful smile of his own for saying the very thing he wanted to say to his partner.

"So I'm guessing this isn't a social visit," Wolford said. "McHorn and Higgins have already been by. They said Fangmeyer and Trunkaby would be by later."

Judy was suddenly all business and quickly explained what they had learned at the morgue. The findings surprised the two wolves.

"Cancer?" Lupez said. "That's awful…I mean, I knew they didn't look good when we arrived at the scene, but I didn't think…"

"And the ME is _sure_ the carbon monoxide killed them?" Wolford asked.

"She is," Judy said. "She filed the report before we left. The DA's office should officially drop the charges later today."

"So if that case is closed," Lupez asked, "Why are you guys here?"

Nick answered, "To figure out why you and Redd were still sick a day later."

Wolford frowned. "Why would the Chief give you that assignment? That's something the doctors and detectives would work on."

The fox glanced at his partner before answering. "My guess? He wants to keep me out of the precinct and out of his way. Or maybe he wants me involved in some way. I don't know. Officially, I'm not investigating Redd's involvement in a criminal investigation."

"I guess that's one way to avoid a conflict of interest," Lupez said with a shrug. "So, the usual procedure?"

"Oh fun," Wolford said dryly. "I've always wanted to be on the other side of the interview."

"Really?"

"No."

Judy took out her notepad just as Nick held up the carrot pen. "Hey Carrots, this might be a little easier."

Judy nodded. "Are you guys okay with us recording this?"

The wolves quickly consented and the fox pressed "Record". "Okay," Judy said, "Walk us through what happened that day, from the time you arrived at the crime scene, to the time you arrived at the hospital."

Lupez looked at Wolford, who took that as the cue to begin. "We were on patrol in Sahara Square when we got called in. We were told it was a multiple homicide, one survivor, suspicious circumstances. The responding officers said they were feeling sick – almost everyone who responded to the scene reported feeling sick. We saw most of them come through here for treatment, actually.

"Anyway, we arrived, got brought up to speed, and went to interview the suspect."

"You were already treating it as a crime?" Nick asked.

"You know the drill, Wilde: any time you have a dead body, you rule out homicide before making any other judgments. So yeah, one lone survivor of a roomful of dead mammals is going to raise a few flags."

Lupez continued, "When we saw him, it was hours after the fact: it was around noon, maybe early afternoon, I think. We sat with him in the neighbor's apartment and interviewed him. His testimony is in our reports."

"Did you leave anything out?" Judy asked. She expected the wolves to be offended that she questioned their abilities, but neither of them looked angry. In fact, they both looked a little guilty.

"There's always the possibility…" Wolford admitted. "I mean, I know _I_ was looking forward to getting off. _Work_ ," he quickly covered. "Getting off _work_."

Lupez shot him a look. "And I wasn't feeling too well. At the time I thought it was another migraine, so by the time we got back to the precinct around five, I was really feeling it. Though now that I think about it, my headache _did_ get better when we left the building…"

"Mr. Wilde was also complaining of a headache," Wolford said. "But if he drank as much as he thought he did, that wasn't hard to believe." The gray wolf paused. "He also said his headache got better after he got outside. Guess that should've been our first clue, but we thought he was lying, that he was hiding something."

"Because he was a fox," Nick said flatly.

The wolves didn't answer right away. They both looked guilty.

"That's not an indictment against _you_ ," Lupez told him. "Mr. Wilde wasn't making it any easier for himself. He kept changing his story, kept 'remembering' things that completely contradicted what he had just said. And we've heard the 'blacked out and don't remember a thing' excuse before. It wouldn't be the first case of a mammal committing murder and having no memory of it. Or so they claim.

"But believe us when we say…we had no idea he was your father."

"I mean," the gray wolf said, "It was pretty obvious in hindsight, seeing as he looked _just like you_ , but I just thought it was a coincidence, that, y'know, all foxes _don't_ look alike, y'know?"

"Nice save," Nick said wryly; the wolf scowled in return. "So you get to the scene, interview Redd, and he tells you…?"

"That he didn't do it," Wolford said with a little shrug. "Couldn't give any other explanation, couldn't explain why his friends were dead, how it happened, but he just swore up and down that he wasn't guilty."

"I wanted to believe him," Lupez said honestly, "But procedures are procedures. We had to bring him in." She paused for a moment, reflecting, and said, "The window was cracked open when we arrived. Mr. Wilde said he had opened the window, that it was the first thing he did when he woke up. He had a hard time doing it, though: it looked like it had been painted shut and was stuck. But those old windows are pretty awful. Elliot tried closing it, and even he had a hard time. I don't see how a fox with what we thought was a hell of a hangover could've found the strength to open it. And a poisoned fox, for that matter…"

"Like we said," Wolford interjected, "His story kept changing, there were a lot of things he couldn't explain."

"Why didn't you seek medical attention? For him, or both of you?" Judy asked.

"We offered," the gray wolf replied, "But he refused. He didn't want EMS 'poking and prodding', were his words. I thought that was suspicious, but then again, I also thought he had one hell of a bad hangover, so even if an EMT looked him over, what else could they do? So we brought him to the precinct for booking."

"He was still feeling bad when we got there," Lupez explained. "Complained of a bad headache the whole time. He asked me if he could take an aspirin. I checked the first aid kit, and it was fresh out. I had a new bottle at my desk, so I figured, hey, just one aspirin can't hurt, right?"

"So he took the aspirin you gave him?" Judy asked.

"Yeah, and he said he started to feel better soon after. I took one for my own headache, and so did Elliot, and we clocked out for the day."

Both wolves suddenly went silent. They eyed the carrot pen cautiously. Judy quickly caught on, and silently glanced at Nick, who stopped recording. Once he had put the pen away, Judy turned back to the wolves.

"Okay," she said, "What happened that night?"

Wolford and Lupez shared a look before the former said, "You have to promise you won't say anything. This is strictly confidential."

"Of course," Nick said.

"I mean it, Wilde."

"So do I."

Wolford glared at him for a moment before he was satisfied that the fox wasn't lying to him. He sighed. "We…went out to dinner. Together. At a nice restaurant. And we…" he turned to look at Lupez, "…had a nice time."

Lupez sighed as well, but rolled her eyes. "Elliot, there's no point in hiding, they obviously know. How big was the pot?" she asked Judy.

Judy quirked an eyebrow, but Nick smugly replied, "I made fifty bucks."

The white wolf smirked at him. "You're welcome. So…yes, I'd say we had a _very_ nice time…" she said with a little smile at her partner (who looked understandably elated). "We were a little…tense, at first. It had been a long day, and it was our first date, and I guess neither of us were feeling too well…"

"But we didn't want to cancel, either," the gray wolf said. "Didn't want to chicken out." He coughed. "So…we went to dinner, had a couple drinks, and…"

"You had a nice time," Judy finished for him, while shooting a look at a smug-looking Nick. Wolford looked relieved that neither he nor his partner would have to go into more detail. "And you woke up the next morning still feeling bad?"

"We thought we'd had too much," Lupez admitted. "But, well, it wasn't the first time going into work with a hangover, so we went in, took another aspirin apiece, and got to work. The headache never really went away though. And after we left work…well, you know the rest."

"And for the doc to say it was carbon monoxide? That doesn't make any sense," Wolford said, looking puzzled and troubled. "Please tell me they evacuated that building."

"Fire Marshall already took care of it," Judy said. "They're looking for the source of the gas leak as we speak. Nick and I are going over there before our shift ends to take a look at the crime scene for ourselves, maybe see if there's anything that was missed."

"Not a bad idea," Lupez said. "You going to see Mr. Wilde, too? Last I heard, he's still here."

Judy looked over at Nick again. He was trying very hard to hide his true feelings, but, increasingly, the bunny was finding it easier and easier to read him. "We had already planned on it," she said. "If you guys can think of anything else, please let us know."

Nick couldn't help but ask: "Do us one little favor, though?"

The gray wolf perked up. "Sure, what is it?"

Nick smirked and pointed at the pair. "Invite us to the wedding."

Wolford immediately replied with a growl: "Get bent, Wilde."

Nick was still laughing as Judy dragged him out of the room by his tie.

* * *

They stood outside Redd's hospital room, which was still under guard, though the four officers had been reduced to one. Delgato only nodded at the pair as they walked up. When they explained why they were there, the lion took the opportunity to take a short break while they interviewed the older fox.

"He's been feeling better," Delgato said, "But he still isn't 100 percent. He's older than Wolford and Lupez, so that's probably why. I heard the doctor say he wasn't in the best of health, either."

The rabbit and fox shared a significant look, and Nick's expression turned stony. The other victims had been immunocompromized, so did that mean he was too? They waited until the lion excused himself before they stepped up to the door. Judy turned to her partner and said, "You don't need to go in with me if you don't want to. I know what happened this morning wasn't…wasn't the easiest thing to do."

"I have to my job," he said robotically, as if by repeating it like a mantra, it would make it easier.

Judy punched his arm, shocking out of his funk. "Your job be damned, Wilde, if this is affecting you this badly, you shouldn't have to force yourself!" she snapped. "I should've taken you back to the station after what happened at the morgue…"

"Why?" he challenged. "So Bogo can take me off the case and prove that I'm not up to snuff? Just to prove that I'm not good enough to wear this badge?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about? Where did this come from? Nick, you _are_ worthy of that badge, you always have been. And I highly doubt the Chief would hold it against you if you request to be reassigned."

"No," he said stubbornly, glaring at the door. "Everyone's expecting me to fail. Everyone's expecting me to be just another sly, shifty fox, who can't work an honest job to save his life."

"Ah, so that's it," she said, finally understanding.

"What's it?"

"This isn't about you. This is about Redd." She entered the hospital room before Nick could respond. She was sure if she looked back at him, he would probably look too shocked to speak at all. A little part of her felt bad, but in all sincerity, she wasn't about to let her best friend and partner throw away his future just because his father was such a lowlife. _How can I make him see that he is nothing like his father?_ she asked herself. Then again, was it really her place to make him see that?

Redd was looking remarkably better than he had the night before. The oxygen treatment was clearly working, but he still had bags under his eyes, he still looked scruffy – though that seemed to be a constant, no matter the circumstances – and he still looked tired. But it was a damn sight better than how he was.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Wilde?" Judy asked. "You're looking better."

Redd smiled at the two of them, and Judy couldn't repress the shudder. She was sure Redd meant it to be a warm, welcoming smile, but she _still_ couldn't shake the bad vibes she got whenever she was around him. With Nick, it was easy to let her guard down. With Gideon Grey, it was certainly much easier to trust him these days. But here, she shuddered at the thought of ever letting her guard down around Redd.

"Only thing to complain about is the food," the older fox quipped. "Otherwise…eh, I've been better. But I've been worse. Nice to see you kids again. What was your name again, sweetheart? I want to say…June? Julie?"

"Judy."

"Judy, Judy, right, that's what it was…'fraid my memory's not what it used to be."

"Yeah," Nick finally said, "That's what our fellow officers have been saying about you."

Judy bit her lip and couldn't help sending Redd an apologetic look. She had hoped to ease into this, but Nick evidently didn't want to wait. Redd didn't seem to mind, though.

"My mind was foggy that day," he admitted. "And I'd just lost the last friends I had in this world. I'm all alone now…in fact, there's a lot about that day that just seems like a blur." He blinked a few times and held his head in one hand. "My hand to Heaven, it still feels like all I remember is waking up and finding everyone dead…then fast forward until the end of that day when they're putting cuffs on me."

"Did they read you your rights?" Judy asked.

"I'm sure they did…I _think_ they did…no, that's right, they did. I should've taken them up on that offer for medical help, but, guess I can't go back…" He looked like he was having a very hard time remembering everything…or anything, for that matter. This was going to be harder than she thought. Judy gave Nick one look and hoisted herself up onto the side of the bed, facing Redd.

"Redd…do you mind if I call you Redd?"

"Sure thing, Officer."

"Judy. Go ahead and call me Judy."

Redd raised a brow. "Well, this is new. First time an officer's ever interrogated me that asked me to call them by their first name."

She smiled benignly. "This _isn't_ an interrogation. We just want to figure out how you were still sick over a day after you were arrested. There was carbon monoxide in your system, but that shouldn't be what caused you to collapse."

"I'm no doctor, so I can't tell you what happened or why," the older fox said, completely at a loss.

"How about you just tell me what you _do_ remember, from the time between when you were arrested, to when you collapsed last night?"

"You're not asking about what happened after I found my friends dead?"

"We're not working that case," she explained. "The Medical Examiner determined they all died of carbon monoxide poisoning."

He gave a little shrug and said, "That's not surprising, considering everything else."

"Exactly. The DA's office is expected to drop all charges against you. The ZPD already has. Ruled accidental deaths, so there was no crime committed."

Redd looked away, and couldn't conceal how uncomfortable he was.

Nick picked up on that immediately. "Redd, what happened? What aren't you telling us?"

The old fox sighed in defeat. "You probably don't know, but… _they_ were sick. All of them. Molly…" he shook his head. "I didn't recognize her when I saw her. Pancreatic cancer, they told me, a death sentence if there ever was one. Truth be told, if I _was_ convicted, I'd rather take a needle in the arm than slowly die like that. She said as much. Talked about being tired of suffering, and I can't blame her."

Judy frowned, seeing where this was going, but hoping it wasn't. "Was she considering suicide?"

Redd shook his head, but his answer seemed to confirm her fears. "She wasn't strong enough. This is just a guess, I don't know if it's true, but I think she might've asked Rich to do the honors, but I don't think he had it in him. If it were me, I wouldn't. I couldn't. But then I don't know what's worse: watching the love of your life slowly waste away, or be responsible for ending it quickly. No, I couldn't do it."

This time Nick and Judy looked at each other, and neither had to say anything. They both knew what the other was thinking. "Redd," Nick said calmly. "What happened?"

Redd slowly closed his eyes and leaned back into the bed. "It was a goodbye party, Larry said. Molly had weeks to live, if that. Peggy was sick, but I had no idea until I got there and she told me. I didn't know what else we were celebrating. When Larry said it was a goodbye party, I thought he meant he was moving, or one of them was leaving the city. Now that I think back on it…"

Nick finished the thought: "A suicide pact."

Redd slowly nodded. "I knew Larry hadn't been quite right over the last few weeks, but to suggest…"

"How do you mean?" Judy asked.

"He started acting funny, not like himself at all. He got all paranoid all of a sudden, started demanding money from me that he swore I owed him, even though I had paid him back. We argued a lot, I won't lie about that. He'd fly off the handle for no reason. If I was taking too long fixing something, he'd lose it. If I even looked at him funny, he'd lose it. Honestly, it was getting so bad I was thinking of leaving. It was so sudden, though. He just started acting…odd. He'd always been tight-fisted, but it just got even worse over the last couple weeks. And I think he was hallucinating, because he kept yelling at me about missing money, or shoddy work, when I had already paid him or made the fix.

"Then just a couple days before the 'party', he was back to his old self. Weirdest thing I've ever seen. But then, I've heard that mammals who've settled on their…escape plan…start to perk up, get real happy, near the end. I had no clue what changed…but I guess I know now."

Silence settled on the room, and neither of them said anything for a long while. Redd looked the most affected, but Nick was staring at the floor, numb with shock. But it made sense, now. "Where did he get the gas?" the fox cop asked. "You said the oven was open to let out some heat."

Redd looked helpless. "Nick, I don't know. By the time I figured out what we were 'celebrating', I had already had a couple drinks."

"You said it was _one_ drink," he said, suspicious.

"One, two, five, does it matter?" Redd asked rhetorically. "I wanted to forget why I was there. I'd known the Swifts for years. And Molly was a real saint. Peggy, too, rest her soul."

"Yeah," Nick said, slowly nodding. "Yeah, they were."

Judy's ears had lowered, pressed against her head as she watched both foxes mourn. There was no way Redd was faking that. "I'm so, so sorry for your loss."

Redd gave her a half-hearted smile. "Thanks, sweetheart." He wiped his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Sorry, you were asking me…?"

"The events between your arrest and when you collapsed," she repeated, grateful to get off the subject. "Can you walk me through it?"

"I already told the doctors."

"I like to be thorough."

Redd glanced at Nick, who only nodded with a long-suffering look. "She does. She makes Mom look laid-back."

"Yikes. Where does she get the energy?"

Nick smirked, "Well, you know bunnies. They just keep going, and going, and go—OW!" he yelped when Judy punched his arm. "You hit harder than you think!"

Judy scowled at him for a moment then turned her attention back to Redd. "So…about yesterday?"

Redd cast a worried glance at his son's sore arm before quickly beginning his version of events: "Long story short, the wolf cops show up, they question me, don't like what they hear, then cart me off. I'm feeling real bad as we're leaving the building, but as soon as I got outside—"

"Bad, how?" Judy interrupted.

"Headache, mostly. Nausea, weakness, really sleepy. Like I was still drunk, but I knew I wasn't. I was telling them as we walked out that I wanted to see a doctor because I was feeling bad. The gray one said there were EMTs outside, they'd take a look at me if I wanted. We got outside, though, and suddenly I'm feeling a whole lot better. Like the headache was still there, but the nausea, the weakness, the rest of it was gone. Damn headache was still there, though, and I know from experience that all a doctor can do when you got a headache is just tell you to take an aspirin. I wasn't feeling that bad anymore, and I told them – the cops – that I was feeling better. That white wolf felt my forehead, checked my pulse, asked again if I wanted to see an EMT, and I said no.

"So they hauled me down to the station, led me to…well, you saw. After booking, mugshot, fingerprints, all that, they set me up in a cell while they wait for one to open up at the jail. I still had a headache, and I heard those wolves complaining of headaches too. I asked the gray one if I could take something, 'cause I was hurting something awful. He sent the white one to get something. Came back with a new bottle, just opened. Said the first aid kit was out, but that I could take one of theirs – not sure if it was a guy or a chick, to be perfectly honest…"

"She-wolf," Judy said, starting to get used to having to explain this fact. "Officer Lupez, the white wolf, is female."

"Huh." Redd looked surprised and yet not surprised. He finally shrugged. "Explains a couple things, then. He – I mean _she_ – was a lot nicer than the gray wolf…who I'm assuming…?"

"Is male," Nick confirmed. "Go on."

"Right. Well, _she_ gave me an aspirin from her own stash. She said she got migraines, and took one herself as I took mine. She told me, strictly speaking, that she wasn't _supposed_ to be giving me anything that the nurse on duty was only allowed to, but hey, like I was going to tell on her? And even if I did, who'd believe me?

"Anyway, after I took it, I started to feel a little better. My public defender came in about an hour or so later – Russ Burnram, can you believe that? A prosecutor, defending me? He told me he was doing this _pro bono_ , whatever that means, and I told him exactly what I told the cops and what I told you. He promised to defend me, and do a good job, or however he put it. He used a lot of fancy words. Hell of a nice guy, though, for a lawyer.

"So I settle in for the night. Headache's largely gone away, but I've never had a headache last so long. I slept pretty well, considering, but I woke up and just felt like hell. The nausea was back, and the headache and weakness too. I thought it was just nerves. I'd found out I was charged with murder and facing the death chamber, so yeah, I was just a _little_ anxious. Burnram came in early to check on me – like I said, hell of a nice guy – and said I looked like I needed a doctor. I told him it was just nerves, that I'd get over it, but he didn't look like he believed me. I guess I was trying convince myself I was fine.

"Day went on, I saw those wolves again. God, they looked like hell, both of them. But the white one was still nice; I asked for another aspirin, since the headache hadn't gone away, and she gave me one. The gray wolf was a real bastard, told his partner not to bother, but I'm used to the good cop, bad cop schtick. Not the first time I've been arrested. The white wolf – you said her name was Lupez? – she asked me again if I wanted a doctor, and I said no. If it was just nerves and a headache, what could a doc do for me? Throw some meds at me? I'm not crazy, I don't need meds.

"Anyway, by the time you come in and try to tell me to make a deal," he said with a sharp look towards Nick, "I'm feeling really bad, but trying not to let on. Didn't want those cops thinking that I was scared, that they were getting to me. I didn't want them thinking I would crack. I knew they had ways of making creatures talk, y'know?"

"They're cops, Redd," Nick said, "Not gangsters."

"Potato, po-tah-to, kiddo," his father retorted. "Wouldn't be the first time they tried to shake me down, and as long as I draw breath, it won't be the last. They have it out for guys like me, y'know. Guys like _us_."

Nick bit back on what he really wanted to say, without needing to see his partner giving him a worried look. Judy cleared her throat and gently asked, "So, Lupez and Wolford leave, we come in to talk to you, and…you collapse a couple hours later?"

"Yeah. They brought food to me – tuna salad sandwich – which is usually my favorite, but that night, I couldn't eat it. My stomach just kept churning. Head started feeling worse, like it would split open. I think I called out for help from the guard, but I don't really remember. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here."

Judy and Nick shared a look, the latter looking surprised. Had Redd actually just told the truth?

"And that's all you remember?" Judy pressed.

Redd shrugged helplessly. "That's all I remember. Judy, right? Listen, Judy, I wish I knew more. I wish I could help you."

"You've already given us a lot of help. But one thing still puzzles me…"

"What's that?"

She frowned. "How you survived the night in the apartment."

Redd was at a loss. "No idea. I'm as confused as you are. Mind you, I'm not complaining…"

Nick's brows furrowed as the thought occurred to him: "Where exactly were you when you woke up in the apartment?"

Redd looked at him. "What's that got to do with it?"

"Probably nothing, probably everything, but just humor me," his son said.

Unconvinced, the elder fox said, "By the door. I woke up on my…" he paused to think, "My right side, yeah, I was facing the wall. I got some bruises on my arm, must be from when I fell." He lifted the sleeve of his hospital gown to show the black and blue welts on his arm, showing through his fur. Both bunny and younger fox winced.

"That looks awful," Judy said.

"Hurts like hell, too, but whatever they're putting in this IV is helping," Redd said. "Anyway, I wake up, head's next to the door, I think I'm…maybe a foot away? The window's right above me, light's coming in and wakes me. I'm feeling awful when I wake up, which, guess I know now what that _really_ was…and think to myself that if I get some fresh air, maybe I'll feel better. I've had plenty of hangovers in my day, and fresh air always helped me before. Damn window was painted shut, though. Larry's idea. Damn swine would do anything to save a buck…so I had a hell of a time getting it open."

"But you got it open," Nick said to confirm.

"Yeah, just enough, I think. I get some air, and start to feel better. Stronger. I push it up some more, get it open, and just stand there, breathing. Still feel like crap, but at least I can function. And that damn thing screeched like a hawk, which lemme tell you, didn't help the headache any."

The room fell silent again, but this time, both Nick and Judy's brains were processing what they had just heard. Redd looked between the two of them, then asked, "Anything else?"

Judy looked back at him and gave him a little smile. "No, I think that's it. We'll show ourselves out, let you get some rest."

"You can stay, y'know," Redd said, sadly looking at his son, who wouldn't meet his eye. "Get caught up…talk about something other than…all this."

Nick's eyes flicked over to his, then he looked away. "We have work to do. If you think of anything else, give us a call." He started walking to the door. Judy gave Redd one last look, gave him another optimistic smile, and slid off the bed.

But Nick paused at the door. Judy frowned, wondering, then was shocked when Nick turned around and said,

"Hey Redd?"

"Yeah, Nick?"

"I…I'm glad you're feeling better."

Redd finally smiled at his son and settled back into the bed. "Me, too, kiddo. Me, too."

* * *

"I'm an idiot… I'm an idiot... I'm an idiot…"

"Will you stop?"

"No."

" _Nicholas_ …"

"Judith."

"You are _not_ an idiot, now will you _stop_?" she huffed as they pulled up outside 703 Oasis Drive, Sahara Square. She turned off the cruiser and sat back in her seat. "Stop kicking yourself over this, okay? It's normal to be worried about your father's health."

"I just keep expecting him to lie through his teeth," he admitted. "So when his story matched up…"

"Yeah, I was a little surprised, too," she also admitted. "I guess now that he's not expecting to go to trial, he doesn't feel a need to cover his tail anymore."

"Trial or no trial, he's going to lie about something." Nick sighed. "So, let's go see if he's lying about this."

They exited the vehicle and ducked under the police tape wrapped around light posts and wrought-iron fences. There were still two firetrucks out front, lights flashing a warning to all passersby. Except for the two cops and a fair number of firefighters, the street was deserted.

"They must've evacuated everyone on the block," Nick said, slightly perturbed. "It's so quiet."

"If it's a big gas leak," Judy said, "You want to get as many people out of danger as possible. We don't know how bad the leak is. It could be small enough to kill five mammals, or it could be big enough to permeate the whole building. One spark would be enough to level the whole block, if enough gas has built up."

Nick stared at her. "Gas is that volatile?"

She had forgotten already, that he had no experience with natural gas and fossil fuels whatsoever. Nick had never left Zootopia, she'd learned, and had never known a time or a place where gas was used as an energy source. So she just nodded. "We learned young, back home. Aside from the 'birds and the bees', rabbit families out in Bunny Burrow all learned safety around natural gas and fossil fuels. A few of my parent's neighbors are switching to renewable energy for their homes, but still holding onto gas and oil for the farm equipment…"

"Why would _anyone_ use it, knowing how dangerous it is?" he wondered. The fox was absolutely astounded. "You're saying enough gas buildup in this building, one spark, like from a match, or…"

"Or even plugging in an appliance or flipping a light switch," she added, "Any spark, and the whole place would've gone up."

This was enough to silence him, and make him look much more wary of the building they were about to enter. It was a seven-story redbrick edifice, a cornerstone marking the year it was built as being over forty years ago. The single-pane windows were clearly original to the building, some completely frosted over from the breakdown of radon in the treated glass. Even from the outside, they could see dark spots from black mold around the windows, where some moisture had somehow made it in, despite the dry heat of this borough. From the outside, the building was austere, utilitarian, but then, government housing wasn't meant to look as flashy or fancy as the Palms Casino in the center of Sahara Square. It was just meant to be simple, basic apartments, for those who had no other choice but to live there.

Judy didn't know it, but Nick had lived a year in a place like this. He hadn't been lying when he said he'd rather live under a bridge than in an apartment complex like the one Larry Hogsden owned and ran. In fact, one year in that leaky-roofed, mold- and cockroach-infested cesspit had been enough to convince the fox that squatting was infinitely preferable to slowly dying from whatever toxins were in those walls.

At the entrance, at the top of the concrete stairs, they met a uniformed camel in ZFD gear, who was shrewdly assessing the outside of the building while examining a device in his hoofed hand.

"Excuse me, Fire Chief Daly?" Judy called.

The camel turned and nodded, "I'm guessing you're Hopps and Wilde? Bogo called and said you'd be by today. How can I help you?"

Judy barely came up to his knee, but she was used to this, and she was used to having to crane her neck back to look up at the much taller mammals. "We wanted to take a look at the apartment where the deceased were found. Is it safe to enter?"

"Not safe enough for my liking," Daly said, frowning at his device. "There wasn't a single carbon monoxide detector in this building, and the smoke detectors that actually _had_ batteries had oxidized. There was a radon detector in the basement, and _that_ was working, but for all intents and purposes, this place is a death trap. It's a miracle nothing happened before now."

"Were all the mammals safely evacuated?" she continued.

The camel nodded, "Every last one. But that just means hundreds of innocent folks have no place to live. If it were up to me, I'd demolish this whole block, build something halfway decent in its place. But, that's not up to me, is it?"

 _If only it were_ , Judy had to admit. She looked over her shoulder and saw Nick staring up at the frosted windows, the sad, crumbling structure, that seemed the perfect metaphor for the events that unfolded in that apartment for those five terminally ill victims.

"Is it safe enough for us to go up and take a look?" she asked. "We won't be longer than fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen is pushing it," the fire chief frowned down at her.

"Ten minutes, then," she said. "We have a theory, and just want to test it out. It won't take us very long at all. We'll be out of your fur in no time."

By now, Nick was looking up at the camel with interest. The firefighter clearly didn't want to give them leave to do so, but he finally relented and said, "Ten minutes, and one of my firefighters is going in with you." He signaled a jackal, who came trotting over. The jackal was perhaps a little older than Nick, about forty, and halfway suited up, wearing a dark t-shirt and the bright reflective overalls as part of his uniform.

"Jacques," Daly said, "These officers need to see apartment 7K; will you show them up?"

"Yessir, I'll grab my gear."

Five minutes later, the trio of first responders were slowly climbing the stairs to the top floor. The jackal in full firefighter's dress took up the rear, Judy at the front, and Nick following in the middle. As they ascended the stairs, they noted that there were twenty-six units on each floor, numbered and lettered by floor: 2A, 2B, 2C...3A, 3B, 3C…and so on, all the way down to 7Z, at the very top. The numbers on the doors were chipped, falling away, and some doors even had the numbers crudely written in black marker right on the door itself. The firefighter was either too focused on the job or too polite to say anything.

Nick, however, was not.

"Yeesh, what a dump. I knew Hogsden was a lousy landlord, but I never expected it to be this bad."

"Nick," she admonished. "People live here."

" _Lived_ here, past tense," he pointed out. "And that just makes this even sadder."

She felt inclined to agree.

"Are there no working elevators?" she asked the firefighter.

The jackal spoke up, "There are, but we had to cut the electricity to be safe. We found the breaker box in the basement, flipped all the switches. We had our guys going through every unit to make sure there weren't any live wires, sockets, or switches. So far, so good, but I don't feel comfortable being in here for very long."

"We'll be brief," she said, suddenly feeling out of breath. They were only at the fourth floor when she had to take a breather. Nick was by her side in an instant. "Hey, Carrots, you okay?" he asked.

Judy blinked, suddenly bleary-eyed. _It's the heat,_ she told herself. Not a single window was open – which she found very odd – and even though it was November, it was still hot enough outside that having no air conditioning whatsoever was torture. But she had worked the beat in Sahara Square before, right out in the sun, and while unpleasant, it never affected her like this. A horrid thought crossed her mind, but she quickly put it aside.

 _Ten minutes,_ she told herself. _That's all you need, ten minutes…_

"I'm fine," she said. "Haven't slept well the last couple nights. I guess I'm more tired than I thought." She straightened up and started climbing the next stair. "Come on, we don't have much time."

It took them longer to reach the top level than expected. Judy was starting to lag more and more, and despite Nick's protests that they leave, she stubbornly insisted that they had come this far, and she was not going to back out now. Finally, they made it to Apartment 7K. The splintered particle-board door was crisscrossed by more police tape, but the door itself had been opened, likely by the firefighters as they did their sweep. Firefighter Jacques confirmed this.

Nick pushed the door open wider, and the three peered in. The jackal checked his watch and said, "Five minutes, guys. Make it quick."

Nick stepped into the apartment and immediately covered his nose. Black mold, everywhere, even in the kitchen. And here, he could smell it. Gas. It was obvious to him now; it smelled like the propane from one of those fancy grills (he preferred charcoal, himself). And now he could understand why five mammals died; he was already beginning to feel woozy. Five minutes would probably be too long.

"Okay, let's get this over with," he said. "I'm going to lie down on the floor, where Redd said he was. Carrots, you close the door, okay?"

She followed his lead, but stumbled a bit over her feet. She grasped the doorjamb and held herself up as she closed the apartment door. She could hear the shuffling of fabric and creaking of floorboards as Nick settled himself down into the position Redd said he had been in when he awoke. After only a moment, the fox called out, "Okay, open the door."

Judy pushed it back open, swaying slightly. "That's it?"

Nick slowly stood up, stumbling a bit himself. "That's it, I'm calling it, now we need to get outta here."

Jacques understood, and radioed down to the trucks to get oxygen tanks. Fully suited-up, he gave both fox and bunny hits from his own oxygen tank as they descended the stairs. Judy was having a harder time of it than the canids were, and suddenly she was feeling all the symptoms: the dull headache, the nausea, the swimming feeling in her head, weakness, shortness of breath…if she didn't get outside soon, she was sure she would pass out. And one look at her partner's worried face was all the motivation she needed to get out, and get out _now_.

The firefighter got them safely outside where EMTs were already waiting with oxygen masks in hand. The last thing Judy remembered was one of them fitting a mask over her face before the world went dark.

* * *

 _Home again, home again, jiggedy-jig._

That was the only thing Nick could think as he sat by his partner's bedside. It saved him from thinking about other, weightier subjects. But his brain rebelled against him, conjuring up horrible scenarios that could have done much worse than simply put his partner in a hospital bed.

She could have died.

The gas could have killed her. What if there had been a spark? What if some static from his uniform or his fur had caused a spark, and killed them all? Why had he let her come into the building with him? He should have gone alone, instead of putting her at risk. He should have insisted on going in alone. He _knew_ she was so small, and the coroner herself said that smaller creatures were at a greater risk for exposure. And Judy was certainly stubborn enough that if he insisted on her staying outside while he went in, she would've followed him anyway. But once they were inside, why didn't he get her out of there at the first moment she started showing symptoms? Why didn't she say anything sooner? _Why_ didn't he get her out of there?!

 _Stop it,_ he told himself. _Think of something else._

Larry Hogsden. If the boar wasn't already dead, Nick would have gladly gone to prison for police brutality. He'd heard the rumors, known the stories about the slums that pig had run, but to see it up close made him so angry, he was literally – truly, literally – seeing red. That Hogsden would put innocent mammals – and for God's sake, children! – at severe risk just to save a few bucks here and there, was so sickening the fox actually felt like vomiting. But he had to keep it together, he had to keep it together _for her_. Judy was counting on him to keep calm, stay calm, to be a professional.

 _To hell with professionalism,_ he thought. _If I could, I would spit on that hog's grave_. He was so angry he was shaking. He could understand why Redd would argue with him. What had he said?

" _He just started acting…odd. He'd always been tight-fisted, but it just got even worse over the last couple weeks. And I think he was hallucinating, because he kept yelling at me about missing money, or shoddy work, when I had already paid him or made the fix."_

Had the gas leak been going on for longer than they expected? Hogsden was a known drunk, so it could have been alcohol that was clouding his already terrible judgment. But Nick seriously doubted that, now. He needed to read up more on carbon monoxide poisoning, but the fox was sure that the boar's erratic behavior had more to do with gas than with drink.

 _Though the ME found black mold on his lungs,_ he remembered. _Maybe it was the mold?_ He'd heard of cases in his high school history class, where fungus-tainted grain may have caused the mass hysterias in the Middle Ages, made people think they saw monsters or witches. And it was common knowledge that certain fungi had psychotropic properties, much like a certain toxic flower he knew all too well…

He ran his hands through his fur and sighed. At this point, it could've been anything. It could've been purely psychological for all he knew, but that just as likely. He'd seen a lot in his thirty-two years, and erratic behavior, violent outbursts of explosive anger…most common in alcoholics, but he didn't recall any that had vivid auditory or visual hallucinations.

Nick was beginning to wonder if it was a pathogen that had caused it. But if it had been, why was Hogsden the only one affected? Miss Peggy, Rich and Molly Swift, Bill Shanks, Redd, neither of them exhibited unusual behavior in the weeks leading up to the incident, as far as he knew.

The whole thing was making his head hurt.

Judy finally stirred, and blearily opened her eyes. He was relieved, so relieved he swore he was about to cry. She was fine. She was safe. She was going to be fine. Her exposure had been so minimal, but her reaction so severe because of her size, the doctors were confident that she would make a full recovery and be allowed to go home in the morning. They wanted to keep her overnight for observation, just as a precaution.

But Nick was still angry. His relief, his joy that she was safe, was rapidly replaced by anger. And intellectually, he knew she wasn't responsible for it, she wasn't the reason he was angry, she wasn't the person he wanted to throttle.

It, once again, came back to Redd.

Judy smiled a little behind her oxygen mask, but quickly frowned and croaked out, "I'm sorry, Nick."

That was it. He didn't need a better trigger than that.

"You're sorry?" he asked. "You're _sorry_?!"

Judy shrank back in shock when he abruptly stood and started shouting.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Did you think, even for a minute, about your own safety? I'll tell you the answer: no, no you didn't, and you never do! You could've gotten yourself killed, did you think of that? Forget about me, I don't give a damn what happens to me, but I care about what happens to _you_!

"You have so much to live for: you have your family, your career, and yet you're willing to throw it _all_ away without even thinking about it! Don't you get it? People _depend_ on you, they _worry_ about you, they goddamn _love_ you! Sometimes you can be just…an incredibly dumb bunny! You know what? No, you're not a dumb bunny – no one is that stupid.

"But you _are_ selfish. Yeah, I said it, you're selfish! You think I don't know why you do this? You think I don't know why you throw yourself headfirst into danger every time, why you ignore orders to hold back and wait for backup? You just want the glory, don't you? You just want people to think you're not 'just a dumb bunny', you don't want them to think you're weak. But I can see right through you, Judy Hopps. I _know_ you're overcompensating, and I know _why_ you do it. That doesn't make you a hero. It makes you a _coward_!"

He stood over her, panting, feeling the anger ebbing away as he spoke. He tried to ignore the tears forming in her eyes, the hurt look on her face, he even chose to ignore the choked-back sobs fogging up the oxygen mask.

He took another deep breath and hissed, "You can be stupid, irrational, stubborn – so, _so_ goddamn stubborn – that sometimes, I just can't stand being around you. You can be insensitive, and…" He huffed and switched gears: "We are _partners_ , Judy. We are partners, which means we _have_ to have each other's backs. You are not alone anymore, and you need to get that through your thick skull before it gets you or anyone else killed!"

And finally, to his horror, he started to cry. He couldn't hold them back anymore. "Judy, I am by your side, all the time. You're not alone. You don't have to work, or think, or act like you're alone anymore! I've got you, understand? I mean, my God…" he sucked in a breath. By now, he couldn't even look her in the eye. "You got into policing because that was your dream, and you wanted to take on the world and prove everyone wrong.

"I got into this because of _you_ , Judy."

She finally ripped the mask off her face and shouted at him: "Do NOT call me that! STOP CALLING ME THAT!" She lost control and started sobbing. "Nick, just…stop. Please, stop…"

And now he felt like the world's biggest bastard. This was not how he wanted this to go. He'd said what he wanted to say, what he meant to say…but not like this.

"I just called you a lot of things," he said. "You'll have to be more—"

"Stop calling me Judy!"

He froze, then stared at her.

She choked back another sob, tears streaming down her face. "Ever since this started, everything with your dad, I can count on one hand the number of times you've called me Carrots, or Fluff, or…or anything else! You _never_ call me Judy, except when something's wrong. I'm trying to be there for you, you idiot! I'm trying to help, but you won't let me help you! So excuse me for trying to help, but I thought if we only just worked out what the hell happened in that apartment that you could finally get over it, tell your dad to go to hell, and go back to being _you._ " She wrapped her arms around herself and stared down at the bed.

"I'm sorry I scared you," she said quietly. "You're right, I should have told you. I should have been more of a team player, I should have relied on you… But you left something out. I'm not just selfish, I'm not just reckless, and I'm not just a coward: I'm a hypocrite. I kept telling you to open up and trust me, kept trying to show you that it's okay to depend on me…but I never depended on you. And that was wrong. I was wrong. And I'm so sorry."

Nick closed his eyes and slumped back into the chair next to her bed. He held his head in his hand. His voice croaked with emotion. "I'm sorry, too. I was out of line. I never should've said any of that."

"No, don't apologize," she said, rubbing her arm, unable to meet his gaze. "I needed to hear it. I needed to hear all of it. Because you're right." She forced a laugh and wiped away tears with the back of her hand. "You've always been right about me. You saw me for what I was the minute you met me: just another dumb bunny."

"No, that's not what I thought."

She finally looked over at him. And he looked up at her, tears matting the fur on his cheeks. "I thought, 'She's so naïve, she's going to get eaten alive…but she doesn't care.' I've never met anyone quite like you. You…you amaze me, every day. I'm not afraid to say that I'm closer to you than I am to my own family. I've never been as close to anyone as I am to you."

"Then open up to me," she pleaded. "I trust you, without question. But I get the feeling, sometimes, that you don't trust me."

"That's not it at all and you know it."

"Do I know it?"

Her question surprised him, but so did his answer. "…No, no you don't." He looked away, stared at the floor. She looked away from him, staring down at the hospital blanket clenched in her hands. The room was absolutely silent.

"Sean Todd was my best friend since elementary school."

Judy looked up at him in surprise. Nick still wasn't looking at her, as his eyes had a faraway look in them. "I'd known him since the sandbox, at the playground. We grew up together, on the same block. After the…incident with the muzzle, he was the only one of my friends who stood by me, told me to forget about them, they didn't matter. I almost believed that, y'know.

"We stayed friends throughout high school, and even after. I tried a semester at the community college, but dropped out because I didn't have the money. All the money from my early hustles went to helping Mom, keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table. I tried saving, but I spent so much time working on school that I didn't have time to make money. I couldn't afford tuition, so I dropped out. Every time I failed, he was there for me, to tell me that it didn't matter, that I'd come out on top again, always land on my feet, like I always do.

"But I wasn't as good a friend to him as I should've been. I wasn't the friend he deserved. I should've noticed the signs, because they were there, for years, and I never paid attention. I didn't pay attention until it was too late." He stopped and took in a breath. "He committed suicide last year, in the Spring. I was the last person to talk to him. And I didn't do a damn thing to help him."

Judy just sat there, watching him, not judging – how could he have known, she told herself, how could he have known?

"Sean had stopped talking to his family – another long story – so I was the one who identified the body. At least by then, I had done enough hustles and saved enough money that I was able to afford a halfway decent funeral for him. Finnick drove me up to Timber Heights, where Sean's family had come from, and I scattered his ashes on the mountain. He said he always loved that place. I didn't do it for him, though. I was doing it for myself, because I felt so damn guilty."

"Nick…"

"After that," he continued, "I swore that I wouldn't let that happen again. I wasn't going to be such a horrible friend…you called yourself a horrible friend a few months ago, but you're not. You're not as bad as I am. Was. Whatever. I guess…I guess what I'm trying to say is…I was a monster. But you make me want to be a better person."

Now she was in tears again. And so was he.

"Nick?" she quietly asked.

"Yeah?"

She ran over a dozen things she wanted to say, should say: _It's not your fault. You didn't know. You couldn't have known. You are a good friend, no matter what you say. You are a good person. You don't have to feel guilty._

 _I love you._

She said the only thing that felt right.

"I love you."

He whipped his head around to stare at her. "W-what?"

She looked at him. "I love you. _We_ love you, all of us. You—you've convinced yourself that you don't deserve it, but you do. I love you, and that's never going to change. No matter how bad you think you were back then, no matter how bad you actually were, no matter what you did…my feelings will never change.

"If you can forgive this stubborn, selfish, cowardly, stupid bunny for being…all those things and more…"

"You can forgive me for…all those things and more?" he asked.

"No." She gave him a hopeful smile through her tears. "Because as far as I'm concerned…there's nothing to forgive."

He didn't say anything. He didn't think he physically could. So instead he stood up, climbed up onto the bed next to her, and wrapped his arms around her tiny body. Judy returned the hug just as fiercely, burying her face in his chest. He had finally opened up to her, just a little bit. She had finally gotten something off her chest, something that had been eating at her for months. It wasn't a true confession, she knew, but now was not the time for something like that. He didn't need a girlfriend, he needed a friend. He needed a family. He had his mother, sure, but Judy just wanted him to know that _she_ was a part of that, too, whatever that was worth.

It wasn't a lot…but it was a good first step.

* * *

"I'm surprised you're not in there with them."

Chief Bogo looked down towards Helen Wilde, standing by his knee. She was looking into Judy Hopps' hospital room with him, and had been since both had first heard the shouting. Both mammals had waited outside, listening, and had heard everything. Helen had set her face to keep from betraying her emotions, but she couldn't hide the tears glistening in her verdant eyes. Bogo, on the other hand, kept his usual stony expression as he listened.

When he finally responded to her inquiry, he said, "I'm not going to bother. Your son covered most of it. He got the message across better than I could, short of firing her."

"You're not going to, are you?" she asked worriedly.

"No, I'm not. But she did take a stupid risk, and she will face consequences for it."

"Parking duty?"

"If she's lucky."

Helen couldn't help but wince. From her years caring for wounded police officers, she learned the only thing worse than parking duty was being assigned to the records office. And poor Judy would've hated that.

"She'll be alright?" Bogo asked the nurse, in one of those rare moments where he showed his true colors: that he was not as big a hard-ass as he wanted everyone to believe.

"She should be," she replied, deciding it was better not to draw attention to his changing mood. "Doctor Fawkes said her exposure was so minimal that he could probably send her home today, but he wants to keep her for observation, to be discharged in the morning."

"I'll give them both the day off tomorrow," he decided. Helen knew better than to think his motives were entirely altruistic. She looked up at him and asked, "Have they left the precinct yet?"

"Hmm?"

"The media."

He glowered. "No."

Ah, so that was it, the real reason for the day off. She looked back into the room, and excused herself. "I'm going in to check on them. Anything you want me to say?"

"Yes. Tell him I want to speak to him. He's not in trouble," he added when the vixen sent him a look. "I just need to talk to him."

Helen Wilde clearly didn't believe him, but took him at his word anyway. Chief John Bogo was well known for his integrity, and was perhaps the most honest police chief in the city's history. In many ways, she hoped he never stepped down; Helen had seen a lot of police chiefs over the years, and she didn't want to imagine a Zootopia without Bogo in charge.

Nick exited the room immediately after his mother delivered the message. While the nurse was checking up on her patient, the fox cop stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"I did. How is she?" he asked.

The fox looked careworn and tired. "Stable, she'll be fine. She knows she took a stupid risk, and—"

"And she doesn't need you to fight her battles for her," the buffalo interrupted. "She's a big girl, Wilde, she can explain herself to me on her own. What I want to know is why you went in there in the first place. I only authorized you to speak to Chief Daly, not go into the bloody building."

Nick couldn't tell if this was a trap or not, but being honest was the best way forward. Bogo was too savvy to fall for a lie, and too moral to tolerate it. The fox took a deep breath and said, "We were following up on a theory we had: how Redd Wilde survived the night."

Bogo hadn't been expecting this. It wouldn't surprise him if Hopps had convinced Wilde to go into the building for some reckless reason or another. "Go on."

Nick shrugged his shoulders. "It was pure dumb luck. He passed out from the exposure, but he landed right by the front door. There was about two or three inches of clearance between the floor and the bottom of the door itself, so he had consistent airflow throughout the night. The window over his head had been painted shut, but it was one of those old single-pane windows that haven't been used in construction for decades; it leaked like a sieve. It wasn't enough to keep him from feeling the full effects of the gas, but it was enough to keep him alive."

The buffalo inhaled deeply. "That _is_ pure dumb luck."

"Told you."

"Anything else? How did the trip to the morgue go?"

Nick looked at the wall, but the buffalo knew he wasn't intentionally avoiding his stare. Bogo knew that look only too well. But he hadn't expected that Wilde would have picked it up so soon. The Thousand Yard Stare was so common in any mammal who had gone through some trauma that he could have picked out a rookie from a veteran just by looking at them.

"What happened?" Bogo asked.

The fox finally looked up at him, resolve in his eyes. Then he said something that took him by surprise:

"I want to be taken off the case." Under Bogo's glare, he continued, "I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't."

"I take it your first autopsy didn't go very well? It happens to the best of us," the Chief said. "I didn't take my first one very well. Consider it a rite of passage…"

"I _knew_ all of them!" Nick shouted at him. He had finally cracked under the pressure that had been building for days. "I knew every single last one of them! Do you have any idea what it's like to see friends and—and people who were as good as family, laid out dead on a slab?!"

"Yes." Bogo waited until Nick had taken a deep breath before continuing, his voice low, and tone surprisingly soft. "I've been a police officer since I was twenty years old. In that time, I have had to identify the bodies of friends and fellow officers at the morgue. I have been to too many funerals, said too many goodbyes, and investigated too many murders…so whether you want to admit it or not, I understand. I know how it feels, Nick. Because I have been there before, far too many times."

Nick's anger now started to ebb away. But he still wasn't finished.

"I should never have been a part of this," the fox said, shaking his head. "Investigating Redd's involvement in all this should have _never_ been my responsibility. I thought I could be impartial, I thought I could be unbiased, but I can't. And, sure, maybe this won't go to trial now, but if it does, if it comes under review—"

"I already told you," Bogo interrupted. "This will be on _my_ head, not yours."

"I wanted to do a good job," the fox said dejectedly, openly imploring him to understand. "I wanted to be worthy of the badge, but I failed."

The buffalo sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "I never thought I'd say this, but Hopps is a bad influence on you. Wilde," he sighed again, "You're too damn noble for your own good. Forget what anyone else says about you. I may not know you well, but I would not have hired you if I didn't think you'd be a good police officer."

"But you don't trust me."

"I never said that."

Nick stopped, watching him carefully for any sign that he was joking.

He wasn't.

"Nick," Bogo said, "I would not have hired you if I didn't trust you. I thought that went without saying, but apparently you're too thick to see that for yourself, so I'll have to spell it out for you. I. Trust. You. And I will continue to trust you until you give me a good reason not to...so I advise you to keep your nose clean.

"Are you always going to do flawless work? No. You've only been at this job for a month, and you've screwed up. Everyone here has screwed up. Even Hopps has screwed up, many times, and she's as close to Mary bloody Poppins as anyone can get. You're going to screw up, that's just a fact. No one is perfect." The Chief paused, and leaned in a bit, looming over him. "Do you know why I put you on this case?"

"Because I'm familiar with Redd and know him better than anyone else?"

"No."

The fox blinked in confusion. Bogo continued,

"I put you on this case for two reasons: to test you, to see that you could follow orders and procedures and _not_ be a smart-arse for longer than five minutes, and secondly, because I knew you could handle it."

"Well obviously I'm not handling it very well."

"That's your interpretation. From where I'm standing, you're doing very well."

"Then you need to get your eyes checked."

The Chief didn't respond right away. Instead, he straightened up, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and calmly replied, "Go on then, Wilde. Tell me exactly what you're thinking. Don't hold back."

Nick knew it was a trap, it couldn't have been anything else. But at that moment, he didn't care. So he finally gave in, and let it out. He let him know just how much they had gotten to him.

"I was a monster before I started here. I did a lot of horrible things, and treated folks like garbage. Judy Hopps is the only reason I'm standing here today. Without her, I'd still be a scamming little nobody living under a bridge. I owe her everything. And even though I treated her no better than I treated everyone else, she never gave up on me. Thanks to her, I actually believed that I could be something _better_. How stupid was that?"

Bogo stood still, his expression impassive as he listened.

"And then just when I'm getting my life in order, my deadbeat dad just _has_ to come right back and screw up my life all over again, because once, twice, _twenty_ times just wasn't enough! And you know what? I had hopes…I had hopes that he had changed, that he was innocent. But I was wrong. _I_ tried to change, _I_ tried to turn my life around, but he never tried _at all_. Do you have any idea how…how infuriating that is?! I actually took a chance, I took a risk, I _tried_ to be something better. He's never been able to hold down a job, probably never worked a single honest job in the last two decades. But you know what? I wanted to be _honest_. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was not just another shifty, lying fox. I wanted to prove them all wrong.

"And then Redd comes crawling back into my life after twenty years, and there it is: a reminder that I'm no better than he is—"

"Wilde, _shut up._ "

Nick suddenly remembered where he was and to whom he was speaking. He swiftly closed his mouth and waited for the ax to fall. This was it. He had screwed up. And now he was going to pay for it.

But Bogo surprised him yet again.

"Wilde, I don't care." He uncrossed his arms and stood tall, fists on his hips. "Let me fill you in on a little secret, one they should have taught you at the academy, but clearly didn't. I don't care what your family life was like before you started here. No one does. What _I_ care about is making sure you know damn well that you have a _new_ family: us. Believe it or not, all of us – myself included – actually give a toss about you. We care about you…but you need to give us the chance to show it."

It was probably the first time Nick Wilde had ever been too stunned to make a wise-ass comment. It was also the first time Bogo could see through him, clearly, and saw the fox for who he really was. And he was not just some shifty, lying fox. For the first time, Bogo realized just how lucky he was to have someone like Nicholas Wilde on the force.

"You're not joking, are you? You're not yanking my tail?" Nick asked.

"Do I look like I'm rutting joking?"

"That's a no, then."

"That is a very, very big no." Bogo paused, then said, "I'm giving you both the day off tomorrow. The DA's dropped the charges against Robert Wilde, and as soon as the doctors give him the all-clear, he'll be a free fox. But you two need to rest up; you've had a rough few days."

Nick just accepted it, and nodded once to acknowledge he understood. Then he walked right back into Judy's hospital room to deliver the news.

* * *

I like the idea of family being more than just those you're related to by blood. Most of my fics have some variation on that theme. Traditional definitions of family are evolving beyond the nuclear family model that was the norm for a good half-century. As for the last two scenes, I wanted to be clear that Judy and Nick are still very much friends, but again, it goes back to one of my favorite lines: "Friends are God's apology for family." It may seem like I'm using a sledgehammer to get my message across here, so if it does come on a bit strong, I apologize for that.

I rather enjoy writing Redd; I've always been weirdly drawn to enigmatic characters, those who have plenty of secrets and are not always forthcoming, and yet are still charming in their own way.

There are only a couple more chapters left in this one. No hints or spoilers, you'll just have to read! I hope you enjoyed, and please read and review!


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** My apologies for taking so long to update this. Things have been very busy at work, and I haven't had a whole lot of time to devote to this. To make up for it, I have a longer chapter this week. Thank you to all the readers and reviewers who left feedback, I greatly appreciate it. Just knowing people are reading and enjoying this keeps me going!

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

Judy huffed and crossed her arms as she slumped back into the sofa cushions. "Will you quit fussing over me? I'm fine."

"You are _not_ fine, young lady," Helen scolded, rummaging through her nursing kit. "You almost died."

"You heard Doctor Fawkes, it wasn't all that bad."

"Listen to the nurse, dear, now deep breaths so I can check your lungs."

Judy sat up straight and allowed Helen to listen to her lungs and heart with her stethoscope. She wanted to protest, wanted to tell both the nurse _and_ her son that she was fine and that they and Chief Bogo were making a big deal out of nothing. However, Helen had told her to be quiet so she could check her vitals, Nick was out, and Bogo wouldn't take any of her calls. The latter was the most infuriating part. As far as the bunny was concerned, she still had an open investigation, and a day off was simply inexcusable. No matter how much Nick and the Chief assured her that it would be waiting for them when they went back to work the next day, being told to wait was torture for the go-getting bunny.

After their fight – for it had definitely been a fight – Nick had become even more overly protective of her. He had been protective before, but now it was a fierce devotion that, while she felt she _should_ have been offended, Judy had to admit it felt good knowing she had such a devoted friend in her corner. Helen, too, had become even more motherly than before, which Judy thought had more to do with her being a nurse rather than her best friend's mother. When the vixen was not treating her as a patient, however, she acted as de facto mother to the bunny.

"So far so good," the vixen said as she stashed away her stethoscope. "As Doctor Fawkes said, avoid any strenuous activity, rest up, and get plenty of fluids. And I will make damn sure you follow those orders while you're staying here."

Judy sighed and sank back into the sofa cushions again. Upon her discharge, her plan to recuperate in her own apartment had been overruled by both foxes. Helen objected because she was still worried about Judy's exposure to the gas, and Nick objected because he knew that if he turned his back, the bunny would be up and running a mile if he let her. So, using his spare key to her apartment, he collected a change of clothes, a fresh uniform, her toiletries, and anything else she could need.

 _I bet the dumb fox enjoyed going through my underwear drawer,_ she thought, recalling the wide grin on his face when he showed her that he had packed her carrot-print undies; he was sure to never let her live it down. _I'll kill him when I get the chance. They were half-price! And who is he to question my fashion choices, Mr. Hawaiian shirts?_

"I can hear you fuming from over here," Helen said from the kitchen. "Stop that."

Judy's ears fell. "Sorry, ma'am."

"You're forgiven. Now hush and eat your soup." She brought out a tray topped with a bowl of vegetable stew, two fresh-baked rolls, and a cup of the ever-present chamomile tea. Judy hated to admit it, but perhaps being cooped up in Helen's apartment for another day and night might not be so bad if she got treatment like this. Growing up with over three hundred siblings meant no one was ever spoiled. The Hopps children were by no means neglected, but Judy had never seen a parent dote so much on a single child the way Helen was treating her…and now that she thought about it, the bunny didn't mind the extra attention.

The vixen settled into her spot on the couch and turned on the TV, flipping channels until she found something.

"Oh! Growlmore Girls! Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not at all," Judy said with a smile. "It is your house." She said after a short pause, "Mom loves this show, too."

"Does she? I don't watch much TV," she said as she settled back and picked up her latest needlepoint project. "But this is usually on in the breakroom at the hospital. Certainly beats those godawful soap operas. Unless you'd like to watch those instead – we can make fun of them while we watch."

"I'm beginning to see where Nick gets it."

Helen only smiled and hummed an answer. They fell into silence while watching the show, Judy steadily eating, Helen quietly sewing, until Judy's spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. The bunny drank the last of her chamomile tea and sat back into the cushions.

"Are you comfortable enough, hon?" the vixen asked.

"Oh I'm more than comfortable, thank you." The bunny glanced up over the TV at the framed photos on the wall. All those baby pictures, the photos of the child, the teenager…it made her wonder.

"Where did Nick go?" she asked. She had been meaning to bring it up, but held off until she couldn't contain her curiosity, or her worry, any longer. "He's been gone a long time."

Helen's stony silence said more than she had intended. She tugged a little too forcefully on the embroidery floss. "Redd was also discharged today. Nick said he would help him find a place to stay, since he can't go back to his old apartment."

"That's…awfully nice of him," the bunny hesitantly responded.

" _Too_ nice, if you ask me."

"Was Redd really that bad?"

The vixen didn't say anything right away. She sighed through her nose and looked over at Judy. "I just don't want his heart broken again. Redd's hurt him so many times already, I can't stand to see my boy hurt all over again."

Judy knew Nick to be stronger than that, or at least she thought he was. But it was odd, given how distant and cold the fox had been towards his father since this all began. It was doubly odd, considering his feelings _before_ Redd came back into his life. What had happened since his first assertions that he wanted nothing to do with his father? What had changed?

"Do you think Nick feels like he owes him something?"

Helen snorted. "If anyone owes anything, it's Redd. Nick owes him nothing."

"I can't help but feel that he's motivated by guilt."

"Why should he feel guilty?" she wondered. "He did nothing wrong."

Judy hesitated before she asked, "Did he blame himself?"

Helen understood right away. "You mean the divorce? No, I made sure to tell him why it wasn't working out, and the divorce happened when he was old enough to begin seeing his father for who he really was." She sighed again, resting her needlework in her lap. "I just don't want him to get hurt…"

The rest of her response was cut off by a furious pounding at the door. Before Helen could stand to answer, it slammed open. All Judy could see were the two large, bat-like ears before the booming voice announced their visitor:

"Where is she?!" Finnick shouted. "I find the fool that hurt 'er, I'll bite his arm off and beat 'im wit the bloody end!"

Judy bit her lip to keep from smiling. Helen just huffed and put her hands on her hips.

"Finnick, for heaven's sake, she's _right here_ , and she's _fine_."

" _Fine_?!" The fennec rounded the sofa and Judy could see the fury in his eyes. "She was in the hospital! And you tellin' me she's—"

"Right here," Judy spoke up. She added a wave when he looked at her. "Hi, Finn."

Finnick's fury evaporated immediately, and for a very, very brief moment, Judy caught what she thought was worry, before it was buried beneath his usual crusty exterior. "Oh. 'Sup, Hopps? You a'ight?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. And no one hurt me; I just got a little overzealous again."

The fennec sighed and massaged his forehead. "Girl, you gon' be the death of me…"

"It's sweet of you to worry—"

"Sweet, nothin'. I got good money bettin' you and Wilde get together. Can't let anything happen t' you."

"What about Nick?"

"Yeah, him too, I guess."

This made her giggle, and Finnick's lips finally curved upwards into the closest thing to a smile she had seen in a long time. "That's what I like t' see. So for real, though, you good?"

She nodded as Helen picked up her tray. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Though I'll probably be confined to desk duty for the foreseeable future."

"Sheesh, what'd you do?" She had already told him that parking duty was about the worst punishment an officer could get. Desk duty wasn't much better. Being stuck in Records, next to the boiler, was the lowest of the low, the proverbial dungeon, where an offending officer was banished to and forgotten about, left to wallow in despair amidst the musty stench of decades-old crime files.

Judy fervently hoped she was getting desk duty. It would be preferable to anything else Bogo could give her.

Helen told him before she could: "She ran headlong into the same building where those poor mammals died, and got herself carbon-monoxide poisoning," the vixen said with a big serving of Guilt.

Judy cringed, and waited for Finnick to blow up at her, too. Nick's reaction had been quite unexpected, and Helen's had been subdued, though the vixen was no less happy about Judy's foolhardy decision. The fennec would be furious…

At least that's what she thought, before Finnick climbed up onto the sofa next to her and hugged her. He spoke quietly in her ear,

"Don't you be doin' stupid ish like that, Jude. Nick ain't the only one who cares."

For some reason, this made her eyes well up with tears. She didn't know what she had done to deserve it, but Finnick's friendship was...well, she saw what Nick saw in him. He could be crass, and he was _very_ rough around the edges...but if her back was to the wall, she couldn't think of another mammal, aside from Nick, that she'd want by her side.

Finnick's hug was very brief, but it was enough. He scooted over and awkwardly patted his shirt pocket for a cigarette before he remembered Helen's strict no smoking policy. He licked his lips and quickly changed the subject before Judy could say anything: "So where's Nick?"

"With Redd," Helen said from the kitchen.

Finnick froze, then groaned. "Now I _need_ that cigarette."

Helen sighed in defeat. "Please keep it on the fire escape."

The fennec helped himself, sliding off the couch and perching himself on the open windowsill before lighting up. He took a long drag and let it out slowly, closing his eyes with a grimace.

"He's too damn noble for his own good, y'know," he said. Judy wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or the vixen.

"What do you mean?" the rabbit asked.

"Man, even before you came into the picture," he said pointedly at her, "He always acted like this 'hero' figure. Wanted to be Robin Hood or somethin' like that."

"There are worse role models," she offered. She wondered if Finnick knew how close he was to the truth.

"Yeah, and Redd's one of 'em." He took another drag before he blew it out. "You ever smoke?" She shook her head. "Good. Don't start." He tapped ash off the end of the stick. "I dunno what's goin' through his head. Why's he helping Redd, of all animals? He don't owe nothin' to him."

"Maybe he feels he does," Judy said with a helpless shrug. "You've known him longer than I have."

"And you know him better than I think I ever will." His response surprised her, and she didn't know how to reply. Finnick continued, as if asking himself, "Why's he helpin' _Redd_?"

"Is Mr. Wilde really so bad?"

"Yes," Finnick and Helen said at once.

"Now that the investigation's over," Helen said as she resumed her seat and picked up her needlepoint, "I feel comfortable enough saying this much: Redd is not someone to trust. He might seem charming and personable, but he'll rip your heart out if you let him."

"Among other things," Finnick snorted. "I used t' think there wasn't a fox alive that lived up to the stereotype...until I heard about Redd. Growin' up," he explained to Judy, "We _all_ heard about him, the cons he did, the scams he pulled...he even ripped off Mr. Big, twice, and lived to tell about it. If Nick's with him, I don't think his association with you will save his sorry hide this time." He paused, reflecting, "If even _half_ the things said about him are true...it makes Nick's pawpsicle scheme look like a kid robbin' the damn cookie jar."

Judy looked to Helen for confirmation. The vixen kept her eyes firmly focused on her needlework.

Finnick realized what he was saying, and who happened to be there. "Damn, I'm sorry, Helen…"

"They warned me before I married him, but I didn't listen," Helen said dejectedly. "After a while...it was just better to ignore what everyone was saying. It made it easier." She paused in her work and looked at Judy. "Please understand, Redd is _not_ a good person...but I don't believe he has it in him to murder anyone. Rob them blind, yes. Defraud them for every last cent to their name, absolutely. But violent crimes? Never."

"Not his style," Finnick agreed, extinguishing the cigarette. He blew out the last of the smoke. "If he's smart, he won't stay in Zootopia."

"Oh I'm sure he intends to leave again," Helen said, "Once the heat has died down."

Judy frowned, "But if Nick's helping him find a place, and find a new job…"

Finnick shook his head sadly. "What's the term? A somethin'-somethin' task? Guy who rolled a rock up a hill for all eternity…?"

"...Only for it to roll back down the hill before he got to the top?" Judy answered, "Sisyphus. The term is Sisyphean Task."

"Sounds about right," the Helen muttered.

Judy's ears folded back against her head and she sighed, cuddling deeper into the cushions and blankets. Finnick took the hint and closed the window to keep some of the warmth in. "I just wish he'd open up," Judy said, closing her eyes as she felt fatigued again. "I wish he'd talk to me, so I know how to help."

Finnick climbed back up onto the sofa between the females and settled in. "Like you said: Sisyphean Task."

"The fact he's told you this much," Helen assured her, "Is impressive. I didn't think there would ever be anyone he truly, fully trusts." She paused, then looked over at the bunny. "Until he met you."

* * *

Redd raised a brow at his new accommodations. "Well, it ain't exactly the Palms, is it?"

Nick effortlessly lifted the duffle bag that contained what was left of Redd's earthly possessions and set it on one of the double beds in the motel room. No, it was certainly a far cry from the ritzy Palms casino and hotel in the middle of Sahara Square, but it would serve its purpose. He had found this decent, clean motel in Savannah Central, right in between Precinct One and the Pangolin Arms, using just a quick Zoogle search. Three out of five stars, with economical rates, it was as good as it would get until Redd found a new job and a more permanent place to stay. Nick pointedly decided to not offer his own couch as an option. He wasn't ready to trust his father that much.

"No, but it's the best I could do on short notice, and on a budget." He noticed Redd carefully watching him. "What?"

"When the hell'd you get that strong? I had a hell of a time lifting that."

"The little barrel of fun they call police academy," Nick explained. "Plus near-daily workouts. Carrots insists."

"Carrots?"

"Judy. It's my nickname for her. Long story."

Redd didn't ask. Instead, he looked around the motel room, which looked like any motel room he had ever seen the inside of. Except this one had working light fixtures, no visible mold, or bugs. He amused himself for a moment by factoring in all the amenities, many of which he hadn't had the luxury of when living with Larry. "It'll be nice having my own TV again. This gets cable?"

"Most motels in the city do. Also has free Wi-Fi, but since you don't have a computer…"

Redd shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not bothered." He sighed and looked around the room again. "Strange, to think just a couple days ago I was in handcuffs and facing the death penalty, now I'm a free fox again."

"Not to mention the last five friends you had were still alive."

Redd frowned sadly. "Yeah, I was trying not to think about that, thanks."

Nick winced. "Sorry."

The foxes settled into silence. Nick rubbed the back of his neck. Redd scratched his chin. Then they looked at each other – _really_ looked – for the first time since leaving the hospital.

"Y'know," Redd said, finally breaking the awkward silence and impromptu staring contest, "You didn't have to do any of this."

"I know I didn't," Nick shrugged. "But I feel better knowing you're someplace safe, not squatting somewhere, all alone." In fact, the thought had crossed his mind of offering up his old stomping grounds under the bridge, but that had been on the same grounds as the factory where Redd had worked, and Nick suspected that would dredge up unpleasant memories.

"You just want to know where I am at all times. You don't trust me," the elder accused.

"Gee, can't imagine why I wouldn't trust you," he bit back. "All those lies you told couldn't have something to do with it, could it?"

Redd glared at him, but said nothing.

Nick finally sighed and pinched the inside corner of his eyes. "Look, this isn't how I wanted this to go. I just wanted to get you to a safe place, make sure you had a roof over your head, a bed to sleep in, and some food in the fridge," he said, gesturing to the small refrigerator next to the TV. "I'll go out and get you the basics. I know all you've got is a microwave and a hot plate, but I can show you some tricks to make just about anything on—"

"I know the tricks, Nick. This isn't my first time living out of a motel."

He should have known that, Nick thought, and was surprised at himself for not figuring that out sooner. But then, his own father was such an enigma to him: he didn't even know what he liked to eat. _But he's damn sure not eating BugBurga for every meal,_ he thought.

"Did you want to come with me to the store?" he felt the need to offer. "I need to pick up a few things for myself. I haven't been grocery shopping in a while."

"Good lord, you're a real grown-up now, aren't you?" Redd said with a chuckle. "Not surprised, though. You may joke around, but you've always been an old soul."

"I can see that. I had to grow up pretty quickly, after all."

The father scowled and sat up straight. "Why don't you just get it all out in the open, huh? Either be honest with me, or—"

"Be honest with you? Why should I show you the same courtesy you won't show to anyone else?"

That was enough to shut him up.

Nick grabbed the spare key card. "I'm going shopping. I'll be back in an hour. You have my cell number, if you need anything, or go out somewhere, give me a call."

"Is this standard procedure?"

"Yes."

"I'll call."

"Thank you."

It actually wasn't standard procedure, and he was sure Redd knew that. But if the old fox was willing to play by the rules, Nick was fine with that. The trip to the grocery store was a blur, but he got all the essentials (bread, milk, eggs, toiletries, etc.), plus a few treats and creature comforts. He seemed to recall Redd liking those frosted oatmeal cookies, but it had been so long, he wasn't sure if that was true anymore. Nick got his own groceries, stopped at his apartment to drop his things off, then was back to the motel within the hour, as promised, with time to spare.

He was surprised Redd was still there, lying back on one of the double beds, watching the news. His sharp green eyes flicked up to the door as Nick entered, and he quickly changed the channel to a baseball game; Nick had forgotten it was the night of the World Series. "You like the Cubs?"

"I'm a Bluejays fan."

Redd scoffed. "Sometimes I wonder if you're actually mine."

Nick ruffled through the plastic bags and held up the package of oatmeal cookies. Redd looked momentarily surprised, then smiled. "Yup, you're my kid, alright."

Nick finally cracked a smile and tossed the package towards the other fox, who deftly caught it and immediately tore it open. "Haven't had these in years, this really takes me back…"

"Yeah? Good memories, I hope," Nick said as he started putting away the groceries.

"A few. Heh, I remember when you were a kid, I tried to get you to like these, but you were going through a phase where you refused to eat any oatmeal. At all. Drove your mother nuts."

Nick looked back at him. "How old was I?"

"Four or five. I was still working at the factory then, and that closed down when you were…seven, I think. Seven or eight. Anyway, you wouldn't eat anything with oatmeal – don't ask me why, toddlers do weird things that only make sense to them – so I tried to trick you—"

"The oatmeal raisin cookies," Nick realized. "That was _you_?"

Redd smirked as he bit into a cookie. "Tried to pull them off as chocolate chip. You fell for it."

"You _bastard_ ," Nick said, but he was chuckling. "I _still_ can't stand oatmeal raisin because—"

"—it's lying about being chocolate chip?"

"You're damn right it was!"

The foxes shared a laugh as Nick put away the carton of eggs and closed the fridge. "Any other things you tricked me into?"

"I managed to get you to eat your veggies, somehow. You were always too smart for the airplane or the choo-choo bit." The fox picked up another cookie. "You were always smarter than the other kids. You were so smart it scared me sometimes. But I knew you were going places." He sighed. "I'm sorry that things went south. In the family, I mean. I'm sorry about…well, everything. You deserved better."

"You regret getting married?"

"Of course not. I love your mother, I always have, and a part of me always will, but I know I'm not good for her, I know that she can't stand me, and doesn't want me anywhere near her…or you." He paused, then gently set the package of cookies on the nightstand. "Which is why I'm surprised you're even here. You don't owe me anything, Nick."

"I know that. I just thought…well, you said it yourself, you don't have anyone else. And someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Redd was silent for a long moment. Nick settled himself down on the other double bed and half-heartedly watched the game, however historic it was.

"Did the ZPD put you up to this?" Redd finally asked.

Nick looked at him. "No."

Redd studied his face, then realized, "You're serious?"

"Yes. No one put me up to this. I'm doing this because I want to."

"You sure that's wise?"

"Why do you ask?"

Redd sighed and switched back to the previous channel he had been watching when Nick came back:

" _Good evening, I'm Lester Colt, standing in for Peter Moosebridge. Our top story…"_

Nick groaned. "ZBC?"

"Shh."

"… _released from the hospital today, reportedly into ZPD custody…"_

"Liar," Nick snorted.

"… _Officially, the ZPD has no comment regarding the relationship between Mr. Wilde and his son, rookie officer Nicholas Wilde, the ZPD's first fo—"_

Redd shut off the TV and tossed the remote aside. "They've been running that on a loop for a while," he said. "I'm surprised you haven't said anything to them."

"It's none of their business."

"You know how these creatures are," Redd said. "They won't leave you alone until you give them something."

"No," the fox said, cracking his knuckles. "But I'm not going to worry about it – in a couple days, some huge scandal or natural disaster will happen and everyone will completely forget all about this. The DA dropped all charges against you, and you're free to go wherever you please." Nick paused, then asked, "Any ideas for where you'll go?"

"Not much left, is there?" he said with a helpless shrug. "Fast food, maybe a grocery store, stocking shelves. Not a whole lotta folks'll hire an old fox like me."

"I can put in a good word, be your reference."

"I appreciate it, kiddo, but this experience taught me that I need to find my own way." He clucked his tongue. "I got into a little trouble in Timber Heights. Nothing serious, just lost my job unexpectedly, then my home, and, well, Timber Heights isn't the best place to be homeless even during the summer. Larry extended the olive branch – we hadn't parted on the best of terms – and I took it. It was only supposed to be temporary, until I got back on my feet and found something better."

"Parted on bad terms, how?"

"Dispute over money. Never really resolved it. Never resolved a lot of things…and yet all I have now are regrets." Redd sighed heavily. "I should've appreciated my friends more, treated them better. I borrowed a lot of money from them, I'm ashamed to say, and…well, there's no point in me saying I was gonna pay them back, because when have I ever done that? I regret every move I've made since the factory shut down.

"Your mother, too. I regret how it ended, and everything I did to cause it. Foxes mate for life, y'know. Other animals don't know how lucky they have it. If they get heartbroken, they can just move on. Not us. We carry that shame like a weight for the rest of our lives."

"Is this the part where you tell me to never get married?" Nick asked, noting how quickly Redd changed the subject.

"Of course not. I'm a lousy father, I don't think I know _how_ to be a father, but I always cared about you, and I just want you to be happy. You find yourself a nice girl, someone who makes you happy – and I mean really, truly, happy – and you settle down…I hope someday you can find the happiness that I never did."

Redd glanced at the TV and clapped his hands to his knees as he sat forward. "Anyway, enough of that depressing crap. I ordered a pizza, should be getting here soon. You're welcome to stay, y'know, for dinner. If you want. But I understand if you don't, you got things to do."

Nick thought about it. He thought hard about it. Redd had lied to him, he had been a nonexistent fixture in his life, and despite wanting desperately to be strong enough to say "the hell with it" and walk out and never look back, he couldn't stop himself for thinking – wanting – to know more about this parent he had never known.

"Actually…if you don't mind the company, I could stay for a slice or two."

Redd looked shocked that Nick had actually agreed. He was still stupefied by the time the pizza arrived. But when he offered the opened pizza box over to his son, he looked hopeful. Nick gave him a reassuring smile, grabbed a slice, and started eating. Redd returned the smile, and turned on the TV to watch the rest of the baseball game. He was grinning ear to ear.

* * *

Judy tapped her pen on her desktop and huffed out a little sigh. "I knew this was coming…"

"Could be worse," Nick offered. "Could be Records."

The both shuddered. As reviled as Parking Duty was, nothing was worse than being assigned to Records. The only officer who had come out of that assignment seemingly unscathed was Benjamin Clawhauser; the cheetah, despite his initial (and understandable) reservations, had taken to the job quite well, according to the office gossip. Although no one was sure just how the extroverted feline managed in the isolation of the basement. And he wouldn't tell.

Judy had known that her little stunt at 703 Oasis Drive wouldn't go unpunished, so a week of desk duty while she was recovering wasn't the worst possible outcome. But she still hated being stuck behind a desk.

Thankfully, Nick came to her rescue. Bogo's initial plan had involved giving the bunny busy work so mind-numbing, it would make her think twice about doing stupid things in the future (however vain that hope was). But Nick had pointed out that they still hadn't solved the mystery surrounding their comrades' illnesses. Or Redd's. Why they had all succumbed to the poisoning over twenty-four hours after exposure. The doctors still couldn't explain it, Wolford and Lupez – and Redd – were similarly in the dark, and it didn't take a psychic to know Bogo was desperate to know the truth.

So fox and bunny set up shop in their shared cubicle, the case file's contents spread out over the desktop. They arranged notes, reports, photos, and exchanged their own notes as they decided the best course was to talk it out. They had all the evidence they could get their paws on. Now it was time to put everything together.

Nick finished off a powdered donut and licked his fingers clean. "So…let's begin with Wolford and Lupez."

"Okay," Judy said. She pulled out a copy of the medical report the hospital had sent over. "All their symptoms pointed to carbon monoxide poisoning, and they found high concentrations of it in their lab results. This is true across the board for all three."

Nick picked up a baseball he kept in his desk drawer; he finally remembered that the ball in his hand had been a gift from Molly Swift, but the fox decided not to dwell on that. He tossed it back and forth between his paws as he thought. "And they were all hospitalized within hours of each other, a day after initial exposure. So, what else do they have in common?"

"They're part of the family Canidae," Judy said, for lack of a better answer. "What else?"

He thought aloud: "Wolford and Lupez obviously went on a date the same night they arrested Redd…"

Judy's ears stood straight up. "That's it. I bet you _that's_ what happened!"

Nick frowned, not following.

"Ollie said she and Elliot went to a nice restaurant for dinner, had a few drinks…" Judy said, "Your mother said alcohol can worsen the effects of carbon monoxide. What if that's what happened to them? Redd also had a couple drinks…"

"It's plausible, but it doesn't explain the delayed reaction," he argued, but he was speaking mostly to himself. He tossed the baseball back and forth between his hands. "It should have been instantaneous. They should've had flu-like symptoms for only a short while. Once they were out of there, they shouldn't have felt anything. So why did they?"

They both fell silent, each pondering over the facts laid out before them. After a long, pregnant pause, Nick cleared his throat.

"Okay, so it wasn't the drinks. Couldn't have been _just_ the drinks, anyway. Other theories?" he asked.

Judy started to speak, then stopped herself. There was a slight blush of shame on her face. Nick knew immediately what she meant to say.

"You think it's their biology."

"Not their _biology_ , per se," she said, chewing her bottom lip, "But maybe their noses?"

Nick's ears perked up. "I'm listening."

"Okay, how much do you know about carbon monoxide?" she asked while she began an internet search.

"Well, let's see…it's odorless, colorless—"

"Almost."

"What?"

" _Almost_ odorless," Judy explained as she turned to her computer and opened up a search. "Natural gas itself is odorless, but companies that provide the gas for heating and electricity – at least where I'm from – add the rotten egg smell so that residents know there's a gas leak."

"Redd never said anything about a rotten egg smell, though. And when we were in there, I smelled what I _think_ was propane, but no rotten eggs."

"I know, that's what's worrying…" she looked at a crime scene photo. "Did the fire department find the source of the leak yet?"

"No, they're still looking. Those firefighters are lucky they have Daly. If they had Bogo, heads would've already rolled by now."

Judy ignored the last half of the comment, even though she silently agreed. "So we don't know if that building was on the municipal grid, or if it had its own fuel tank?"

"Dunno. We'll have to check. A separate fuel tank would make sense, but not how the fuel got there; I don't think anyone would miss an oil tanker sitting outside the building. But what's your theory about their noses?"

Judy typed and clicked frantically, looking for the right database, finding the answers she sought on a government site. "Canines, and other members of the Canidae biological family, including foxes, have a much better sense of smell than other mammals. The mammals that died were all smaller species, with exception of Mr. Hogsden."

"Who wasn't much bigger than me, actually," Nick said as he carefully watched her progress. "Need help?"

"I got it," she said as she came upon what she was looking for. She clicked a link and pulled up an image. "Here it is," she pointed at a diagram of a generic canine nasal system. "Canines and similar species, such as hyenas and foxes," she added with a nod to her partner, "have elongated muzzles which makes it easier to pick up scents."

"Which would mean they feel the effects sooner, not later, right?"

"Not necessarily…look at this," she pointed at another medical diagram as he looked over her shoulder.

He frowned. "It's directly connected to the sinuses…so wouldn't they be affected?"

"I'm not sure," she said helplessly. "Says here that in canines, scents stay in the scent receptors in the nasal passages longer than it does for other mammals."

"A delayed reaction," he said, suddenly realizing what she meant. "And the longer it's in there, the more affected they get. And if it was already in their blood…"

"This is interesting," she said as she scanned through the data. "Something about canids metabolizing slower than others..."

"Makes sense," Nick said. "That's the case for most predators, especially the larger ones. Goes back to the olden days, when they still hunted for their food; didn't know where the next meal was going to come from, so our bodies just naturally started slowly metabolizing our food."

"Could that apply to alcohol, too?" she wondered.

Nick rubbed the back of his head. "That _would_ explain a lot of the hijinks in my twenties…"

She just rolled her eyes and continued reading. She got more and more disappointed as she read. "No…no, this doesn't fit, either. There _would_ be a delayed reaction, and the reaction would be much more intense, but you're right, they would've – _should've_ – been feeling the symptoms for longer than they reported." The bunny pushed back away from the keyboard and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"This is going to be a long day," she predicted.

* * *

True to Judy's prediction, it had taken the duo most of the day to come up with different theories, ranging from the mundane (possible exposure to fossil-fueled vehicles or trucks?) to the more outrageous (genetic predisposition, or some obscure genetic mutation?). They had ordered take out from Panda Garden again, and Judy was tiredly fishing out the last of her vegetable lo mein from the carton while Nick nibbled on the last eggroll.

The fox reread some of the notes in the case file. He looked up at the whiteboard they had dug out of the supply closet – it was too tiny for most of their fellow officers to use, but it was just the right size for the bunny and fox. Their theories, notes, and other musings were written in red and blue dry erase marker, with lines connecting, intersecting, or ending with question marks; it looked more like a football play than a crime investigation.

"So," he said, going over the same point for what felt like the hundredth time that day, "It makes sense that smaller animals would be affected by less gas than larger ones…"

"...Meaning Wolford and Lupez could leave the scene without feeling any immediate effects…" Judy chimed in.

"And no one on the CSI team would be so affected because they're all much larger mammals - no one smaller than a sheep, except us." He was starting to connect the dots. "Your nose theory earlier has some merit. Wolves pick up smells better than others, so maybe they _did_ feel some of the effects of the gas, but didn't recognize it for what it was. Not unusual, because natural gas has pretty much been phased out in Zootopia for safety reasons." Nick stopped, his ears flattening against his head. "Wolford and Lupez never knew they were in danger. No one knew they were in danger."

"And why would they?" Judy asked, dumping her trash and wiping down her side of the desk with a napkin. After a long pause, she asked, "When are they getting out? Wolford and Lupez, I mean."

"Clawhauser said they were going home tomorrow, and they'll be on medical leave for at least another week. Chief's not taking any chances."

"And yet I'm here."

He gave her a look. "You shut your adorable doll-like mouth. I know for a fact that my mother threatened to tie you down to the bed to get you to rest. Even if the Chief gave you medical leave, there's no way in hell you'd ever take full advantage of it."

She frowned, but it looked more like an adorable pout. "I can't help it if I want to keep busy."

"Carrots," he said, scanning the notes again, "You really need to learn how to relax. You'll crack if you don't."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just sit in bed all day and do nothing but watch TV?"

" _Yes_ ," he answered. "That's the whole point."

Judy held her head and groaned. Nick gave her a worried look. "You okay there, Fluff?"

She grumbled, "I have a headache."

"Then don't think so hard."

"Always the comedian."

"I'll be here all week."

"Lucky me."

"I _know_ , right?"

She snorted a little laugh, then winced again. "Alright, Slick, enough joking around. Do you have some aspirin or something?"

"Nah, I don't get headaches. First aid kit?"

"Clawhauser said they were still out, but should be getting the order any time now."

"So go see if someone has anything at their desks."

Judy's ears perked up a bit as the thought occurred to her. "Of course! Lupez gets migraines, she probably has some painkillers at her desk. Be right back."

Nick called after her, "Bring the bottle." He closed his eyes and wondered when he had started to get a headache. His closed eyes were the answer: eye strain. He had been staring for too long at the same things, over and over again. He'd heard that a lot of mammals ruined their sight by staring at computer screens all day, and that eye strain was endemic in cubicle workers.

So, staring at notes and barely-legible handwriting for several hours, compounded by a painfully complicated mystery, and the stress of dealing with a long-time non-existent father who lied all the time was not making Nick Wilde a happy fox. He blew air through pursed lips and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. He didn't know if he believed Redd anymore. He was beginning to wonder…had Redd told so many lies over the years that not even _he_ knew the truth anymore? That was his suspicion. His father certainly wasn't helping himself by withholding information, outright lying about subjects both relevant and irrelevant to the case, and often doing just about anything to hurt his case rather than help it.

But Nick couldn't focus on that anymore. And he shouldn't. Redd's attorney had won; he wasn't going to prison. The carbon monoxide was a very unfortunate accident, but certainly not premeditated murder. If the detectives who were still working the case actually found anything in the mess of papers and likely doctored documentation Hogsden kept for his businesses, the absolute worst thing Redd could be charged with (aside from lying to police, which would give him several months in jail, maybe a year) would be culpable or more likely negligent homicide. And yet, Burnram would argue that since Redd was _not_ the owner of the property and thus did not have access to all the building's functions, that he couldn't be held accountable for the actions of a boar who was cutting as many corners as possible in order to save a few bucks.

In short, Larry Hogsden and the other four mammals were victims of the boar's greed.

And Redd would have been, too, if not for the dumbest bit of luck any fox had ever known. Ever.

"Here it is," Judy said, shaking the contents. "Must be a new bottle, she's taken a couple already. But these are canid size, way too much in one pill for me."

Nick held out his hand. "Here, I'll break it in half. I could use one, too."

Judy had brought a cup of water with her and set it on the desk. "Should I get you some water?"

"Nah, that's what coffee's for," he said as he opened the aspirin bottle and shook out one elongated white pill. He frowned when a strange smell tickled his nose. It couldn't be what he thought it was…no, he was too tired. He had to be imagining it. He broke the pill cleanly in half and handed the slightly smaller half to his partner. "Bottoms up." He raised his palm up to his mouth to toss the medicine in and chase it down with his now-cold coffee.

He froze before he put the pill in his mouth.

Wolford didn't get headaches, but the one time he had one, he took something that "didn't do him any good."

Lupez got migraines, and had also taken something for a particularly persistent one the day after Redd's arrest.

Redd had told him the white wolf had given him an aspirin for his own headache after he arrived at the precinct.

Both wolves and the old fox likely had hangovers that following morning, and had taken something for it.

 _They had taken something for it_.

Nick quickly slapped the pill and cup of water out of Judy's hands before she could ingest either. The bunny leaped back in shock, but before she could rebuke him, Nick turned on her.

"It's the pills!" he said, his face pale and distressed. "Don't take them. _It's in the pills_!"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, still confused.

He held up the nearly full aspirin bottle. "We need to get this down to the lab. Now."

* * *

Chief Bogo had called them into his office as soon as the lab results came back; they had stayed late, after their shifts ended, to get the final verdict. The buffalo sat back in his chair and stared at the paperwork without reading it again. He looked over his desk at the pair sitting, numb, in the chair across from him. Both looked shaken, and he couldn't blame them. Discovering that you had a very, very close brush with death would have shaken anyone, especially if it seemed like something innocuous as taking a damn aspirin.

"Well, that explains their other symptoms," Bogo said. "And why they were hospitalized."

"Poison, though?" Judy asked. "There should have been other symptoms. Foaming at the mouth, muscle weakness or shaking, that sort of thing…"

"There were only trace amounts," Bogo said as he glanced at the report again. "If you could call it that. The lab said it was 'just enough to make someone sick'. A full-size capsule for the average canid would make them sick, a half capsule, like the one you were about to take, would probably kill a mammal your size." He sighed. "I already called the hospital and they're treating them for yet another poisoning – Wilde, you'll want to get your father back for treatment as well, just in case. Our techs said this is some kind of compound they've never seen before; they're still analyzing it. What I'd like to know," he said as he glared at Nick, "Was how you knew something was wrong."

Nick answered him by tapping his own nose. "I could smell the cyanide. It's a recessive gene, only 40 percent of the population has it, and I have it too. It's the one thing I'm glad I inherited from Redd. Don't ask me how he knew about it."

"I wasn't," the buffalo snorted. He looked back at the report again, in disbelief. "So, it wasn't carbon monoxide after all, at least not in Wolford and Lupez's case."

"Not entirely," Judy said. "They did test positive for it at the hospital, after all. And they were at the crime scene before they brought Mr. Wilde in for booking, so they were definitely affected. They went out—I mean, they had a few drinks that night—"

"Hopps, I know they're dating," the buffalo said shortly. "I'm not clueless. So, the carbon monoxide, plus the alcohol, plus the poison-laced painkillers…and now we have yet one more mystery that we can't solve."

"We know where Lupez bought it," Judy said helpfully. "The receipt was still in her desk, and she confirmed that's where she got it."

"Yes, but since it's an over-the-counter medicine," the Chief said with an exhausted sigh, "And is sold throughout the country, this is out of the ZPD's hands. This is going over to the Feds. They'll take over the investigation."

"So that's it?" Nick asked. "Our involvement is over, just like that?"

"Be proud of yourself, you accomplished quite a feat for your first big case," Bogo said to him. "It's not a total victory, not like the Night Howler case, but Wilde, you'll find that there will be a _lot_ of near-victories over your career. It's maddening, it'll sometimes keep you up at night, but trust me on this one: you did everything you could, and you did a good job."

Judy gently patted Nick's back and gave it a little rub. This last gesture took the fox by surprise, and certainly didn't escape the buffalo's notice. But the latter didn't say a word. Instead, he closed the file and sighed again. "You've both done good work. I'm giving you a couple days' leave, so use it wisely and get rested up."

"Yes, Chief," the said at once.

"And when I say _rest_ , I _mean_ it, Hopps."

She frowned, but said nothing.

"And Wilde?" Bogo added. "Remember what I said. About family," he added after seeing the fox's confused look. Nick understood, and nodded, "Yes, sir."

After the door closed behind them, Bogo sighed again, groaned from his aching back and glared at the phone. He really didn't want to make this call, but procedures required it. He picked up the receiver and dialed the outside line. He waited for a couple rings before the other end picked up.

" _Roarke."_

"Regina, it's me."

The other end was silent for a long, tense moment. _"John?"_

"I know it's late, but I have something coming your way, and I'm calling as a professional courtesy—"

" _John, please drop the act. Why are you really calling?"_

"It's not an act. I have a case of poisoned OTC aspirin, bought at a retail pharmacy, which is _your_ jurisdiction."

The other end of the line was silent again. Finally: _"You can't be serious."_

"I wish I weren't."

" _Sweet mother of mercy…it's happening again?"_

"It would seem so. Is this the first you've heard of it?"

" _Are you in your office?"_

"For the next hour or so."

" _I'll be right over."_

"You're not waiting until morning?"

" _John, you've known me how many years?"_

"See you in an hour then?"

" _Twenty minutes."_ The call disconnected.

* * *

Helen Wilde hesitated outside the room, working up the nerve to put her hand on the door handle and let herself in. She mentally chastised herself. She was a professional, a nurse with nearly forty years of experience, principally in the ER and trauma ward. She had seen some of the most horrific things this side of a war zone, and yet she had never shied away from any patient in need, in or out of the hospital.

But entering this room was the hardest thing she had ever done.

Finally, she steeled her nerve and opened the door.

The vixen entered, keeping her back straight, walking tall, and keeping her eyes on the chart in front of her. She was horrified when she first heard the news; she remembered when it had happened the first time, but by the grace of whatever Higher Power existed, she had the good fortune to have never seen a case of poisoned medicine. Until now. "Good evening, Mr. Wilde. Whenever you're ready, we'll begin the discharge process."

She could feel his eyes on her and it was just as unnerving as it was the day she met him. God, had it been in this same room? It all seemed so similar, just as it had thirty-five years ago. They had been so young, then.

 _Focus, Helen. Focus._ "I'll need you to fill out this form, sign where marked, and initial at the bottom right on each page. It's a bear, but it is hospital policy."

"You're not even going to say 'hello'?" he finally asked.

"Hello, Redd. Please fill out that form so we can proceed—"

He sighed and took the clipboard and pen from her hands. Helen finally chanced a glance up at the fox she hadn't seen in twenty years. Good lord, he looked like hell. Her practiced eye knew that his fatigue had nothing to do with his most recent stay in the hospital. Or his most recent treatment for yet another kind of poisoning (his chart maintained that he was fine, but it was always a good idea to err on the side of caution in cases like this). What kind of life had he been living for twenty years? Redd looked much the same as he had when they first met, when she was a twenty-one year old nurse, and he a twenty-two year old factory worker who had sliced his hand open on the equipment; he had been so embarrassed for fainting on the factory floor from seeing the blood, even though she insisted it happened to the best of them.

 _Stop it, you know what you're doing, so don't do it._

He had aged, but then, so had she. She was certainly not the spritely, spunky little so-and-so from her youth, and he was most certainly not the young, handsome charmer he had once been. Time and hardship had not been kind, to either of them, and she wasn't sure who showed it more.

He finally looked up and they locked eyes for the first time in twenty years. Unlike their first meeting, he didn't smile. "Here're the forms. What's next?"

She swallowed, accepted the clipboard and said, "We'll get you into a wheelchair and see you out."

"Right, liability issues…they explained it when I got discharged the last time. They really need to take you right to the curb?"

"Yes. Standard procedure."

"You guys get sued that often?"

"Robert," she said scoldingly, using his birth name just as she did back when they were married.

He sighed, buckling under her glare. "Yes, dear."

Helen cracked a smile in spite of herself. He caught it, however brief it was, and gave her a little hopeful smile in return, but it quickly disappeared from his face.

"Look," he said, "I know you don't want to see me, and that's fine. You don't even have to talk to me if you don't want to. But I just wanted to say, while I still have the chance, that…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for not being there for you, for not providing for you, for not honoring my vows, not being there for Nick…"

"Redd—"

"Please let me finish." This gave her pause; he had never said 'please' before. She waited for him to continue. "I'm sorry for the way it ended, because it was my fault, it was all my fault, and I see that now. It took me too many years to realize it, but I realize it now. And…I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me – God knows I wouldn't – so I'm not going to ask for forgiveness. I just want to leave with a clear conscience. If that's selfish, well…I'm sorry about that, too."

Helen closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. "Redd, I'm not going to repeat everything I said the last time we saw each other. Because I'm on duty, and you're a patient, and also because there's no point in recapping it. But there _is_ one thing I'll say." When she opened her eyes, the normally soft, warm green eyes had turned hard as flint. "If you _ever_ hurt Nick again, my oath be damned, I will kill you. You have been lucky, many times, more times than you deserve, but if you hurt my son one more time—"

" _Your_ son? He's _our_ son," he pointed out with a hard edge in his voice.

"Is he? Which one of us actually raised him? It damn sure wasn't you." Her tone was even, controlled, and soft, a sharp contrast from her words and glare.

He looked ready to argue, but backed off. It took her completely by surprise. "You're right. As always, you're right." Redd looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "I know it's too late to have any meaningful relationship with him, and I'm not looking for that. I'm not encouraging him, and why he feels the need to have anything to do with me, I don't know. Only he knows the answer to that. But if you want me to go, if you want me to leave again, I will."

"What _I_ want is irrelevant," she said. "You may be cleared of all charges, but the ZPD still wants to keep an eye on you, so I wouldn't go far."

"I wasn't planning on it, but I'll take your advice."

 _About damn time,_ she thought. She looked at the clipboard again as she turned away to leave. "I'll go file these and be right back."

"Helen," he called. She paused by the door, awaiting his response. "Go get another nurse to do this. We've both said our piece, and I think we'd both prefer it if we left it like this, no shouting match like last time. Am I right?"

He was, but she didn't dare admit it to him. "I'll see if Elizabeth is free." She paused again, then looked back at him one last time. "Nick is the dearest thing I have."

"I know," he said soberly. "I'll keep my distance."

She knew he was lying, but she let it go. Elizabeth could deal with the rest.

* * *

Chief Bogo looked up when his office door opened without so much as a knock. "Oh yes, by all means, please come in…"

"John, it is too late and I am too tired for your attitude," the intruder snapped, "So just get to it so we can both go home."

He leaned back in his chair and studied her. He and Regina Roarke had known each other for years. It was normal and expected that the lioness would barge in wherever and whenever she pleased. She was used to getting her own way, every time, and Bogo was the same way: tough but fair, caring and yet scary beyond all reason. And most importantly, they both instinctively knew when to yield to the other. That was probably why they actually got along.

Bogo handed over the evidence bag containing the pills and a copy of the lab report. "Paperwork's all in order, per regulations. I did a rush job on this; knowing you, you want to start investigating as soon as possible."

"I appreciate it, thank you." The lioness casually leaned against his desk and skimmed the report. Even though he worked with predators on a daily basis, and had worked with many of them for years, even counted many among his friends, Roarke still intimidated him. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact they were natural enemies – in the old days, it was the lioness who would hunt the Cape buffalo, it was the lioness who would do the bulk of the work, while the male lion supplied the bulk of the…well, his bulk…to fight off other lions. While most predators tried to hide any hints to their ancient ancestors, Roarke reveled in it; she was proud of her roots, and used her inborn talents to advance herself through her career to her current station.

"It all seems in order," she finally affirmed. "I'll call you if I have any questions." Her sharp eyes caught something at the bottom of the page. "Hopps…Wilde…is the latter a relation of the suspect who just got off?"

"Yes, they're father and son."

"Ouch. That had to be rough."

"As far as I can tell, they haven't seen each other in twenty years," the buffalo said, the familiar protectiveness kicking in. "They're practically strangers."

"Hmm," she nodded. Then she quickly changed the subject and picked up the evidence bag. "So…poisoned painkillers again? Haven't seen this since they added the tamper-proofing thirty years ago. It was supposed to prevent this from happening again."

"I'm sure you'll find the mammal or mammals responsible," he said. "You always do."

She offered him a slight smile, but said with a resigned sigh, "They didn't catch the first one, so excuse me for not having high hopes."

"You'll get it. You always do," he repeated.

She finally closed the file and tucked it under her arm. "I suppose we do have a pretty good track record."

"It figuratively pains me to say it, but yes, yes you do."

Roarke finally smiled. "Careful, John, or I'll start thinking you actually care."

He smirked, "Don't get cheeky."

She glanced around his office with a skeptical eye before asking, "Are you sure I can't tempt you to accept my offer?"

"Why do you keep asking me when you already know the answer?"

She shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying." She pushed herself off his desk and stepped over to the door. "Let me know if you find anything else. I'll keep you in the loop."

"Isn't that against protocol?"

"Like they'll tell me not to?"

He smirked again. They wouldn't dare tell her no. No one did. "Have a good night, Director Roarke."

"You too, Chief Bogo." She paused at the door, turned, and flashed him another smile. "The ZBI appreciates your cooperation."

* * *

"You kids didn't have to take me out to dinner."

"We wanted to."

"Still…"

"We _wanted_ to."

"Just let her pay, Redd," Nick sighed, having been down this road before. "Once she's made up her mind, she's not changing it."

Judy, Nick, and his father sat in a booth at their favorite diner – the one with that served the best blueberry pancakes in Savannah Central – where Judy had insisted on treating Redd to a night out. The diner certainly wasn't anything fancy, but it wasn't like she could afford much more on her salary. Nick offered to chip in, but the bunny was insistent; besides, he had paid for Redd's groceries with his own money, and knew the extra expenditure would hurt his wallet until the next payday. And that bothered her, a lot.

When she had first heard Nick had bought groceries for himself and his father, despite the latter's protests, Judy couldn't help but feel that Redd was taking advantage of his son. The bunny told herself that this perception had likely been colored by her conversations with Helen, Finnick, and later with Elliot Wolford and Ollie Lupez. The two wolves were finally out of the hospital, and staying with their families while they recuperated. Judy had had the opportunity to check on Ollie, who told her about her own suspicions. It only reinforced Judy's initial feelings about the elder fox when she had first met him, and as much as she told herself to give him a chance, her instincts told her to not only be on alert: they told her to be afraid.

 _He's given me no reason to fear him,_ she told herself. _I'm being ridiculous._

Her instincts flared up when Redd's sharp green eyes settled on her again. The little nagging voice in the back of her mind asked, _**Are**_ _you being ridiculous, though?_

"I really appreciate this, Judy," Redd said. "I wasn't expecting anything more than a simple 'How are you', so getting dinner out of it…"

 _Taking advantage of someone's guilt, more like._ Judy wanted to hit herself for thinking something so awful. This just wasn't like her! She had allowed prejudice to affect one relationship with a fox, she wasn't going to let it ruin another.

"Would you like dessert?" she offered.

"No thank you, I don't think I could eat another bite. It was all really good."

It had been. Judy had insisted that he order whatever he wanted. He took her up on the offer with gusto, and her wallet was feeling much, much lighter by the end of the meal. Secretly, Judy was grateful he didn't expect dessert.

 _But then, you didn't even have to be here,_ she thought. _But you just_ _ **had**_ _to insist…_

She had insisted on joining Nick when he visited his father that day, feeling it was a good idea for several reasons. Principally, she genuinely wanted to make sure Mr. Wilde was feeling okay. Secondly, she had promised herself that she would keep an eye on him for Helen's sake. And lastly, she wanted to be there for Nick if fuzz hit the fan.

So far, so good. Until Nick cleared his throat and said,

"They set a date for the memorial. I was thinking of going, if you wanted to come with me."

Both Redd and Judy froze, sharing a look before both realizing he was speaking to Redd. The older fox swallowed hard and looked down at the tabletop. "I…don't think that's a good idea. There'll be a lot of mammals there, and none of them'll be too happy to see me."

"Aren't you going to pay your respects?" Nick asked, unable to hide the harsh tone. Redd either didn't notice, or chose to ignore it.

"I'd pay my respects better if I didn't show up. The memorial is for _them_ , not me…" he chuckled ruefully. "Though I guess if everything had gone according to plan, I'd be there, too, in any case."

Nick didn't say anything right away. Judy was too horrified to speak. She had forgotten about the suicide pact. _Or so he claims._

 _Damn it, Hopps, stop it!_ she chastised herself. "So you're just going to stay away?" she asked.

Redd sighed and looked out the window. "It's for the best. I bet the media's going to make an appearance, too. If I'm there, that'll just take the focus away from them, and I can't do that to them. They deserve better. I'll honor them in my own way."

"Redd," Nick admonished, "You're not getting drunk. That's what got you in trouble in the first place."

"Who said I planned on drinking? After all the trouble over the last couple days, I think I'll go stone-cold sober for the rest of my miserable life." If he had been joking, the joke fell flat. But that didn't stop him from trying to be genial. "Anyway…if you _are_ going, give my best to their loved ones. Who set it all up?"

"Rich and Molly's nephew pulled resources together to take care of it. Hogsden didn't have any family left that he was speaking to, same for Shanks. Peggy's sister and her husband are in town. All the press coverage on the case did some good: they'll be able to afford the funerals based on donations from the public."

"So at least they'll have a proper funeral," Judy said. "If you want, Nick, I can come with you. I'll understand if you don't—" She broke her train of thought when her partner took her hand. When she gave him a questioning look, he smiled fondly.

"Carrots, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have with me."

She smiled back, finding herself falling into his eyes. Those warm, gentle eyes…

Redd coughed sharply, shocking her out of it. She and Nick moved away from each other, which made her realize just how close they must have gotten in those few seconds. The bunny fought the blush as it rose to her cheeks and ears. Redd noticed her discomfort, and she did not like his smile at all. It was the same predatory smile that she remembered from that first conversation in the jail cell.

In fact, this whole meal had been torturous. Her senses had been on high alert ever since they met up at Redd's motel room. Being close to the older fox made bumps rise on her skin, her fur stand on end. Her nose started twitching for no reason that she could tell. For most of her life, Judy could count on one hand the number of times she listened to her lapin instincts and run from a threat. Right now, her brain, her instincts, her very core was screaming at her to run. _Run away, and don't look back._

As the night progressed, it became harder and harder for her to keep those thoughts and emotions in check. As it turned out, her plan to be there for Nick had backfired. Instead, _he_ was the one keeping _her_ calm. She honestly didn't know what she would do if he hadn't been there to break the awkward silences, keep the conversation light, and divert attention away from unpleasant topics.

"I gotta hit the little fox's room," her partner said suddenly. "I'll be right back."

"We'll be here," she said, feigning confidence that she didn't have. She did _not_ want to be alone with Redd, at all, but she would suffer through the next few minutes for her friend's sake.

"So how long have you two been dating?"

If she had been drinking something, she undoubtedly would have spit it out. But Redd's question still shocked her. "Excuse me?"

He pointed between her and the spot Nick had occupied only seconds before. "You an' Nick, how long?"

"Mr. Wilde—"

"Call me Redd."

"Okay, Redd…I think you're mistaken." She took a deep breath and explained, as calmly as she could, "Nick and I are friends, partners, and coworkers, but we are not lovers."

"Why not?"

This was not how she was expecting this to go.

"How is it any of your business?" she asked testily.

He held his hands up to placate her. "Easy, Judy, I didn't mean anything by it. It just seemed like you two were pretty close, and I just assumed…I mean, what with the way he talks about you…"

"What do you mean?" He talked about her? What did he say when she wasn't around?

Redd must have expected the questions she was thinking. "Nothing specific. Just…he told me how you two met, that whole case with the flowers and the whole sheep conspiracy thing. You two seem really close. That's why I asked. If you are, I'm okay with that. You seem like a sweet kid – maybe a bit young, yet – but if there's no one else for my son, I'd be happy if it was you."

She warily asked, "Where is this coming from?"

Redd sighed and leaned forward against the table. "Did you know foxes mate for life?"

She felt her face flush. "Mr. Wilde!"

"Just making sure you know," he said, ignoring her scandalized expression and outburst. "I just don't want Nick getting hurt. He's had enough of that. He's happy, anyone can see that. I just wanna make sure it stays that way. I don't want him strung along—"

"I would _never_ do that," she said vehemently, with a warmth that she didn't know she was capable of. "Nick is my friend, and I would never hurt him like that." _I'm not you_ , she wanted to add, but managed to bite her tongue just in time.

He was watching her again, and she didn't like it one bit. Those old instincts were coming back, telling her to run.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, his expression unreadable.

 _Run…_

"He's lucky to have a friend like you." He reached over the table and laid his hand on her shoulder.

 _Run._

He gave her shoulder what should have been a gentle squeeze…

 _Run!_

…But she could feel his claws pricking into her skin.

 _What are you doing? RUN!_

"'Welp, I'm ready when you are," Nick said as he joined them again. "Everything okay?" he asked, noting Redd's hand on the bunny's shoulder. Redd took his hand away, but Judy's nose started twitching uncontrollably, no matter how she tried to hide it. She only hoped Nick didn't notice.

"Yeah, everything's fine," she managed to say as evenly as possible, even though her hands were shaking under the table. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah," Redd said as he stood and stretched. "Seems about time to be hitting the ole' dusty trail. You kids got plans?"

Nick made up some excuse as they walked up to the entrance. Judy paid the bill and joined them outside, feeling her heart thudding against her chest the closer she got to the foxes. Nick noticed her first, and finally gave her a worried look. She forced a smile, and his worry visibly deepened.

"We should actually get going," he told his father. "We haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately."

"That's fine, I should be getting back anyway," the elder said with a little wave. "You kids have a good night!"

Judy's heart didn't stop pounding until long after he was out of sight, but she still felt uneasy, even as she walked side by side with Nick back to their apartment building. What was wrong with her? She was alone with him for five minutes tops, and suddenly her prey instincts go into overdrive? Gideon Grey at his worst had never scared her this badly. No predator had ever scared her like this. Nor any prey, for that matter. No, Judy had never truly feared any creature like she feared Redd Wilde.

But how did that make sense? She had managed to keep it together when visiting him in the hospital, and while she did feel a bit uncomfortable upon first meeting him, she had chalked that up to just being in the holding cells. Even she, the eternal optimist, wasn't immune to the despair in that place. So what was so threatening about Redd now? And why was it affecting her so badly?

"So," Nick sighed, snapping her out of it, "I was gonna go home and watch B movies all night. You're welcome to join me. Or, you can keep spacing out. It's up to you, I'm easy." When she didn't answer right away, he frowned. "Okay, I can hear the gears turning. My ears aren't as long as yours, but they're pretty good at listening, too."

She looked down at the pavement as they walked. How could she tell him this? Confessing her deepest darkest secrets to him should not be hard, because she honestly, truly trusted him. He would probably make a joke here or there, laugh off a couple of them – such as the epically huge stuffed animal collection she had – but there was one secret in particular she wasn't ready to share. _This_ one, however, would eat away at her if she didn't say anything. She finally took a deep breath, and took the leap:

"Nick?" Judy asked. "There's...there's something I need to tell you."

She said it with such gravity, Nick immediately ceased joking. He even slowed his step. "I'm listening."

Judy pursed her lips, took in a deep breath, and confessed: "I don't trust your father. I don't trust Redd. I haven't trusted him since the moment I met him. I'm so sorry. I wanted to trust him, I tried to trust him, but I never could. I just couldn't shake the bad feelings I got when I was around him."

Nick had stopped moving, out of shock from her confession, and also confusion. "What d'ya mean? What feelings?"

She met his gaze, and he saw something in there he had never seen before in his little bunny: fear. And finally, _she_ realized what it was about Redd that made her feel so…afraid. "I felt like I was being hunted."

When he didn't say anything right away, she shakily said, "Nick, I'm…."

"You don't have to be sorry," he said. Then he smiled. "I completely understand. It's fine. Look, look at me. Do I look mad?" Still smiling, he opened his arms, and she took him up on the offer and hugged him. "Aw, sweet bunny...see? Everything's okay. I'm not mad. Carrots, you're a good judge of character. Bellwether tricked you, but she tricked everyone. She even had _me_ convinced, so what does that tell you? I never expected you to trust Redd, hell, I never expected you to even like him! So don't be upset, okay?"

She nodded, and stepped away. She sniffed a little but gave him a smile anyway. "Thanks, Nick...that was just eating me alive...metaphorically speaking."

He chuckled. "I get it. Why don't you go on in?"

Judy's ears shot up, and she suddenly realized that they were standing in front of the Pangolin Arms. How out of it had she been that they had walked so many blocks without her noticing?

"How…did we get here so soon?"

"You _were_ kinda out of it," he replied. "You got the spare key, right? Go ahead and let yourself in, get something to drink. I'll be right in."

"Where are you going?" she asked as she started to climb the stoop.

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. "Just need to make a quick phone call."

Her ears perked up. "Everything okay?"

"Yup, just need to call Mom. Wanted to let her know how dinner went. You know how she hates texting, always has to be a voice, right?"

Judy nodded, not completely convinced, but not worried. "Okay, see you inside."

Once the front door had closed behind her, Nick pulled out his phone scrolled through his contacts, and selected a number. The other end rang four times before someone picked up.

"Yes, this is Officer Nicholas Wilde with the ZPD. Yes, I'm Helen's boy. I was wondering if you could look into something for me…"

* * *

A/N: The poisoned pills refers to a real case from 1982, where an unknown individual tampered with Tylenol capsules, lacing them with potassium cyanide; several people were killed (in the initial poisonings, and several copycat crimes), and the case is still unsolved. As mentioned above, the incident resulted in new federal anti-tampering laws and guidelines, which is why every over the counter (OTC) medicine bottle you've used in the last thirty years always has that safety seal.

Nick's ability to detect poison through smell, and the fact 40% of the population has the recessive gene that can detect the bitter almond smell associated with cyanide, is also true in our world. It also made sense that some animals would have much keener sense of smell and be able to detect poisons, while others perhaps did not.

The ZBI would be the Zootopia Universe's answer to our FBI; I've seen the acronym and the idea used in several fanfics, and if I feel the urge to write more within this fandom, I would love to go back and expand more on it.

And yes, "Lester Colt" is a play on newsman Lester Holt. I had to. It was too easy. And the baseball game Redd and Nick were watching was meant to reference the rather historic 2016 World Series; it seemed fitting to mention it here.

As always, please read and review!


	7. Chapter 6

Sorry it took so long to update and finish this story. I got involved in National Novel Writing Month in November, and fully intended to update the first week of December, but work and preparing for the holidays sucked up a lot of my time. Here is the last chapter for Wilde Card. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Zootopia is (C) the Disney Company, no profit is being made from this.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

Nick straightened out his tie in an effort to keep his hands busy. He hated funerals. He had been to too many already, and if Bogo's speech from a few days before was a clue, the fox would likely see several more over the course of his career. That was not a fact he liked to dwell on.

"I swear if they start singing 'Amazing Grace', I'm outta there," he said. "I can't stand that song."

"Why not?" Judy asked.

"Well, call me an ole' softie," he said, brushing off any emotion, as was his habit, "But I'm usually able to keep it together until they start playing that damn song."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Judy stopped him just before they got to the church. She stepped back to gauge his appearance, then reached up to adjust his collar and tie, and the aiguillette on his dress uniform. She was also wearing her dress uniform. They had both considered wearing black, but this somehow seemed more appropriate. That, and Nick truly did cut a nice figure in his uniform. "There," she said with finality. "Perfect."

"Would you say it's…" he paused for effect.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, it's practically perfect in every way."

"There's my girl," he said with a grin.

She smiled back, and gently patted his arm. She knew him well enough to know he was trying hard not to think about where they were going. Judy had only been to a handful of funerals in her life, mostly people she had known. Attending _one_ was hard enough. She couldn't imagine attending one meant for _five_ mammals.

"Are you going to be okay?" she quietly asked.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm not sure, yet. I'm hoping to keep it together. You promise to tell everyone I have allergies?"

She frowned. "Nick, no one will think less of you for being sad. It's a funeral. That's what mammals do at funerals."

"Well, this isn't exactly a funeral per se," he explained, "Just a memorial service. The family – or the relatives that showed up, anyway – will have a private ceremony tomorrow."

"How do you know that?"

"I know Rich and Molly's nephew."

Judy only nodded. He clearly didn't feel like talking, and she wasn't about to push it. She thought back to her conversation with Helen and Finnick, how both of them said that she knew Nick better than they did. She didn't entirely agree with them, but it gave her pause to think that her partner had shared things with her that no one else knew about. He usually hid any emotions behind a veneer of sarcasm and lighthearted – yet terrible – jokes.

Now, she could see right through him.

Judy was rather surprised to only see one news van covering the story of the memorial service. But a glance up at Nick told her he was just fine with there being less media coverage of this event so that the mourners could pay their respects in peace. That, and it was far more likely that the fox was just grateful to avoid someone hassling him for an interview. All the same, he gently took her arm and rushed up the steps to the church without giving the newsmammals a second glance. It was probably for the best, anyway.

Once they entered the sanctuary, Nick stopped short and Judy saw why. Wearing an ill-fitting, somewhat rumpled suit was none other than Duke Weaselton. It didn't take much to deduce why he was here.

The weasel nodded at Nick. "Wilde."

The fox returned his acknowledgement and extended his hand. "Duke. I'm sorry for your loss."

Weaselton looked a little uncomfortable, but he still shook his offered hand. "Yeah, thanks…y'know, Aunt Molly would be real proud t'see ya like this. They really did care somethin' awful for ya."

"They cared about you, too."

Weaselton didn't say anything immediately. The weasel glanced to the door. "Thanks for comin'. And I dunno if you said anything to the news or not, but I'm glad they're not here. 'Cause of the circus they started, I'd been hopin' ya didn't show. Now I'm glad ya did."

"Rich and Molly didn't deserve this."

"No, they didn't."

They finally looked back at each other, and wordlessly, as if there had never been any awkwardness or bitterness between them, they embraced. It was as if Mr. Big had never happened, all of the insults unsaid, all the hard feelings were gone. It was just this moment, when they were brought together by a shared tragedy.

When they pulled away, Nick asked, "Will they play Amazing Grace?"

"It was Aunt Molly's favorite hymn."

"Damn."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, if you start blubbering, I won't say a word as long as you don't."

"My lips are sealed." The weasel frowned. "And watch yer mouth, yer in a church."

Nick nodded and moved down the line of bereaved, paying his respects to the family members of the other deceased. Further down the aisle, Judy could clearly see Helen Wilde speaking with other mourners, probably former neighbors and friends. Nick stepped up to her and hugged her, then the old friends, all of whom looked happy he had come.

Judy paused to look up at Duke, who looked back down at her. She lowered her ears. "I am so, so sorry for your loss."

He sniffed and looked away. "Yeah."

She raised her hand to pat him on the shoulder, but thought better of it. "I never met them, but from what I've heard…I wish I had."

"Yeah," he said. "Hey Hopps? Thanks."

Judy only nodded and joined Nick and his mother in a pew near the front of the church.

* * *

"So how was it?"

Nick looked up when Redd asked, then looked back down at his coffee. "It was fine. It was a beautiful ceremony…"

"They played Amazing Grace, didn't they?" the elder fox astutely guessed.

"Yup," Nick confirmed. They sat at a small table at the diner, hours after the memorial. Judy and Helen had gone home, and Nick said he would check on his father. The females looked like they wanted to say something then, but must have changed their minds, or at the very least thought it better not to say a word despite their earlier protests. Besides, Judy had said she didn't trust Redd; he could have been wrong, but it seemed like she was actually afraid of him. Nick was not about to put her through that again. He cared about her too much to put her into any situation that would hurt her. He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed what Redd was saying.

"Always hated that song. And Taps. They played both at your grandfather's funeral. I can't hear those songs without thinking about him."

Nick frowned. "Granddad was in the military?"

"Oh yeah, years ago. I think his old army trunk is still at your mother's apartment. If not, my brother probably has it."

"Yeah, how is Uncle John?"

Redd poured himself another cup from the carafe that had been left at the table. "He's fine, did I tell you he opened up a tailor shop? He and his boys – your cousins – they do good business in Timber Heights. Y'know, I never thought to ask…you ever been to there?"

"Once," Nick said, not wanting to go into much detail. "It's nice up there."

"Sure is. One of the only places I never felt out of place," Redd said, sipping his own coffee. "Woodland creatures can just be themselves up there, just like bunnies can be bunnies in Bunnyburrow, and sheep can be sheep in the Meadowlands. No putting up a front, not like here."

"Why didn't it work out up there? You said you lost your job."

Redd sighed raggedly. "My boss and I never saw eye to eye. We never liked each other, but I did the work 'cause I needed the money, and he needed to get the job done. So I stayed. Until I got laid off. I could be wrong, but I think he was trying to find a way to fire me for a while."

"What kinda creature was he?"

Redd hesitated just long enough to catch Nick's attention. "He was a hare, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised." Redd thought about it, then swallowed hard. "Judy's not like that. That's good, though, makes me happy to see it. She's a real sweet kid. A bit young for you though, don't you think? Not that I'm judging."

Nick gave him a look. "Eight years' difference. But that's moot, because we're not dating."

"Didn't say you were. Just saying…I wouldn't mind having that girl as a daughter-in-law."

"Dad."

"And knowing your mother," Redd continued, " _She_ wouldn't mind, either."

"Oh I know," Nick said begrudgingly, "She's tried everything to make it happen."

"Did she make lasagna?"

"She made a special one just for her."

"Wow. Helen must _really_ like her. Welp, think about it," Redd said, picking up his coffee. "You could do a lot worse."

Nick sighed. "Even if I did, I don't think she's interested. She's made it clear that we're just friends."

"How long've you known each other again?"

"Since May."

"Well hell, Nicky, don't go rushing into it," he admonished. "Unless…oh, hell, you are, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Are you in love with her?"

"Are we really having this conversation now? Besides, we're getting off-topic. What happened in Timber Heights?"

Redd closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you in trouble with the law there?"

"If I were, you guys would've found out, wouldn't you?" the elder asked. "No, there's no warrant out for my arrest up there. But I burned more than a few bridges."

"Including Uncle John?"

"He's smart enough not to lend me any money," Redd said with a nod. "Your cousins, too, for that matter. Matter of fact, moving up there was the smartest thing he'd ever done. Business has been good for him. And he was good to me. Helped me out in finding a place and a job when I first moved up there. Much like what you're doing now."

Nick smiled a little, but this went away when Redd frowned. "I've burned every bridge." He shook his head. "Well can't go back and change it. Just gotta move forward. Anyhow…thought you might like to know, I had an interview today."

Nick perked up. "Yeah? How'd that go?"

"I don't think they cared much for me...but I got the job anyway," he added with a triumphant grin.

Nick returned his smile and actually patted him on the back. "That's great news! Congrats, Dad. I'm proud of you."

"Hey, that's supposed to be my line," the elder said, but he didn't look too bothered by it. "Thanks though, I appreciate it."

"So which factory is it?"

"Well, you remember that Rich worked at the candy factory that got relocated to the Rainforest District?"

"Is it the same factory?"

"Sure is. I guess…awful as it is to say, I'd be taking his place on the assembly line. It's not hard labor, something I can do well into my golden years. If I save some money, I should be able to retire in another ten, fifteen years. Provided I don't croak first."

Nick smirked. "Well, you lasted this long."

Redd returned the smirk and finished off his coffee. "Yeah, suppose so. Just to be on the safe side, though, I signed up for one of those life insurance policies. You're the beneficiary, and I hope you don't mind, I listed you as my emergency contact."

"I don't mind," Nick said honestly. "In fact, I'm kinda touched."

"You're my son after all," his father said with a shrug. "Anyway, I start Monday, so I guess I'll need to find a place in the Rainforest District."

"I'll keep an eye out and an ear to the ground," Nick promised. "I don't know what your range is, but I'll try and find you something that's not a total cesspit."

"Well, with Larry gone, maybe those buildings will get the maintenance they need."

"You mean a wrecking ball?"

"Eyup." He chuckled mirthlessly. "It was hard keeping up with all the things that went wrong in there, but, I guess being a renter again, I won't have to worry about fixing anything up again."

"Just focus on your work and doing a good job at it," Nick said. "The rest will follow."

"Speaking from experience?"

Nick thought about his experiences over the past month. He thought of his coworkers, the friends he had made since he started. He thought of his job, and how, despite his griping about the weird hours and early mornings, he actually felt like he was truly contributing to something. And it felt good to know that after so many years of taking and taking that he was finally able to pay something back.

And of course, he thought of his partner. That sweet, fiery little dynamo bunny who had flipped his world upside down, and he loved her for it.

"Yeah," he said with a fond smile. "Speaking from experience."

* * *

" _You what?!"_ Helen gasped over the phone.

"It's for the best," her son told her. He added a couple items to his grocery basket as he listened to her protests:

" _Nicky, you've done enough for him,"_ she argued, _"He needs to stand on his own two paws."_

"Mom," he said with as much patience as he could muster, "It's not like I'm paying his rent for him. And yes, I checked, he really, legitimately, has a job at the candy factory, and he starts Monday."

His mother was silent for a long moment, giving Nick the chance to throw a few more items into his grocery basket. He really missed not having Judy with him to go grocery shopping. He hated that chore, but having her with him made it much more bearable, and sometimes even fun.

Forget hustled: Nick was whipped, and whipped good.

" _So he found honest work,"_ Helen finally said, somewhat in disbelief. _"Well, I guess better late than never. But I still say he should find his own apartment. And furniture."_

"It's only a blow up camping mattress," he said. "One that used to be mine. I didn't buy anything for him, it's all secondhand. Mom, I know what I'm doing. Please, just trust me." He realized with sickening guilt that he had said that same line to her many years before, when she had first become aware of his hustles and scams to put food on the table. _Please, just trust me._ And she had, even though he knew it broke her heart.

She sighed, and he could only imagine her shaking her head on the other end of the line. _"Fine, I trust you. But I don't trust him."_

"That's fine, I don't expect you to." Nick hesitated, then plowed forward, "And I never said I trusted him, either."

" _So why are you helping him? You don't owe him anything."_

"You, Finnick, and now Carrots have all said the same thing. I'm not doing this because I feel I owe it to him," he explained, "I feel like I owe it to everyone else to make sure he doesn't fall back into his old ways. If setting him up in an apartment will do that, then I'll do it." He paused as he reached for a quart of milk and set it in his basket. "That, and…Mom, I just feel sorry for him."

" _Yes, he's very good at playing that card,"_ she said shortly. _"Nicky, I just don't want you to get hurt again."_

He nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Me neither. Look, as soon as he's set up in his new place, I don't intend to seek him out. He'll be living his life, I'll be living mine."

" _Did you tell him this?"_

"Not yet," he admitted as he got in line for the cashier. He was still in his uniform, and while he was used to the stares and whispers from just being a fox, the fact he still got some hostile looks while wearing the uniform actually did get to him. Of course, he would never show it. "And before you say anything, I will tell him. I just…have to break it to him slowly."

His mother sighed again. _"Fine,"_ she said, and he knew that it was anything but. _"You do what you need to do."_

"I will. And Mom?"

" _Yes, hon?"_

"Thanks. For listening, for being there for me, and for putting up with me for all these years. I don't know if I ever thanked you."

" _I'm your mother, Nick. You don't need to thank me."_

"All the same, I want to. Of anyone, you deserve it."

She paused, then asked, _"What brought this on?"_

"Call me an old softie," he said as he added his items to the belt and stashed the shopping basket, "But this whole experience has me thinking about how lucky I am, and how I haven't really appreciated my friends and family as much as I should have."

" _Nick,"_ she asked, now sounding concerned, _"Is everything alright? Is there something you want to tell me?"_

"Everything's fine, Mom. Listen, I gotta go, I'm in line and need to pay. I'll call you back when I get home, okay?"

" _Alright, honey. Say hi to Judy for me."_

"Will do." He hung up, paid for his groceries, and hefted his bags back to his apartment. It had gotten dark very early that day, and he was not fond of long winter nights. The fox was looking forward to getting home, taking a nice hot shower and falling face first into bed.

As he reached the door to the Pangolin Arms, however, he got another phone call. He grumbled and cursed as he tried to fumble for the phone without dropping his groceries. Finally extracting it from his pocket, he accepted the call. "Hello?"

Nick listened for a moment, then paused in his step. "You're sure?" He listened again, and felt like a weight had settled in his stomach. He sighed heavily and said, "Okay. Yes, thank you. No, it's not a problem. I can take care of it. One more request? Could you fax me the paperwork? I gave you the fax number for the precinct, I can pick it up in the morning. That'll be fine. Thanks again. Bye."

He hung up and stuck the phone back in his pocket. He stared at the pavement for a long moment to gather his thoughts. Then he hefted the bags up again and ran into his apartment to put the groceries away. Once stashed away, he loosened his tie and made another call.

"Carrots? I just got home, can you come down? I need to talk to you about something."

* * *

Nick shivered against the sharp wind that had blown in out of nowhere. Even if the climate was largely temperature-controlled, even Savannah Central got cold in winter. It wasn't a frigid chill like in Tundra Town, which would turn into a veritable nightmare in just a few weeks. But it was still jacket weather. The fox cop zipped up his ZPD jacket all the way to his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, unsuccessfully fighting off a shiver.

It was Redd's moving day, for all that entailed. Nick had already checked, and discovered that his father had already paid the motel manager for the use of his room. Where Redd had come by the money, Nick didn't know, but he was curious. Still, he would let it slide just this once, he told himself. Just once couldn't hurt. Perhaps he got that money honestly, or, perhaps, he didn't steal it, which had been his knee-jerk reaction.

The fox cop slipped into his perfected mask, the smugly smiling genial fox, the lovable rascal, the guy whose face anyone could trust. Twenty years of hustles and scams had perfected it to a level that had used car salespersons jealous. Whatever his feelings now, he would have to hide them.

Nick bounded up the stairs to the second floor to Redd's room, and quickly knocked on the door. Seconds later, the door opened and the younger fox stepped in.

"All set?" he asked.

"Just about," Redd replied, partially closing the door behind him. "Just gotta couple little things left to pack." He wasn't lying about that; there were still a few small toiletries, ones he had clearly just used that morning, sitting out on a towel to dry. The elder fox stuffed them in his duffle bag and rearranged the contents a bit so that it would be easier to carry. "Got your blow-up mattress too. Real nice of you to let me borrow it."

"You can have it," Nick said, his eyes scanning the room. "I won't be needing it anymore."

"Well, that's mighty nice of you."

"Yeah. Oh, before I forget," Nick said casually, "I swung by the post office and picked up your mail for you." He unzipped his jacket enough to pull out of his inside pocket the envelopes and junk mail as evidence.

Redd paused in his packing, and asked over his shoulder, "Is that right?"

"You left the mailbox key on the nightstand last night," Nick explained. "And you were kinda busy, and I thought, hey, one less errand he has to run before he leaves. So I dropped off your key and made sure they had your forwarding address in the Rainforest District." He held the bundle of mail out to his father with a disarming smile. "Anyway, here's your mail. Figured you might want to look through it."

Redd hesitated before accepting the bundle, and quickly flipped through it. He frowned.

"Something wrong?" Nick asked.

"Nah, not really…was just expecting something to come in by now…"

"Such as five life insurance payouts?" Nick asked, just as casually.

Redd froze. Then he quickly reached into the duffle bag.

Nick had pulled his dart gun before his father could grab his own weapon. Redd was smart enough to raise his hands and step away. Nick used his free hand to tug back on the bag, revealing another gun, but he was fairly sure it wasn't loaded with tranquilizers. He glared at his father. "I'm not going to ask where that came from," he said. "But I do have few questions about these." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the five opened envelopes from the insurance company.

Redd growled. "That's _my_ mail. You broke the law."

"No, I didn't. I suspected something was up when you told me about the suicide pact: Molly would never commit suicide, and Rich would never agree to something like that, no matter how bad it got. I was able to get a subpoena from our helpful new DA. Found out that you opened policies on all five of the victims over a year ago. If any of them had committed suicide, the policy would be void…but you counted on that, didn't you? It was your idea to use the gas. Not a single one of them wanted to die that night, did they?"

Redd's glare turned murderous. "You can't prove any of this."

"I won't have to," Nick continued. "These," he held up the envelopes before putting them back in his pocket, "Are damning enough. Add to it all the lies you told the police over the last four days, you'll be facing a prison cell in no time."

"You can't try me for murder. You already—"

"You were charged, but you were never indicted. You never saw a trial. You can't claim double jeopardy if you were never tried, let alone convicted," Nick explained. "Which means that murder charge – five of them, in fact – still stand. You had opportunity, you had motive—"

"And what was my motive?" Redd shot back, hands still in the air. "Huh? You're clearly so much smarter than your old fox. What's my motive?"

"You owed someone money. A very big, very important, very dangerous someone. You never held an honest job in Timber Heights, did you? You got involved in criminal activity and got in way over your head." Nick held both hands on the gun, steadying it as he aimed for his father. "I know about Ferretti."

Redd paled so quickly, Nick thought he would pass out.

"I know you owe money to the Ferretti family," he continued. "A lot of money, more than you could ever repay. So what did you do? You concocted a clever scheme to solve all your problems: collect life insurance on the only friends you had left in the world, and save your own skin in the process."

"You don't understand," Redd finally said, shaking. "They'll kill me. I'm a dead fox walking."

"Was it their idea?" Nick asked. "Did they set you up to this? They get their money and leave you hanging, to take the rap for what they did?"

"No," he replied. "This was my plan. I needed the money, I asked Larry; he refused. I asked Rich, and Molly, and Peggy, and Bill, and none of them helped me. I was desperate, Nick."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You're a coward. You always have been. You are a lying, cheating, shifty, stupid _coward_."

Redd finally exploded: "Don't you _dare_ call me a coward! And I am smarter than you will ever be!"

"Prove me wrong," he coldly replied.

"I planned the whole thing! Ferretti didn't know a thing about it, and won't care, as long as he gets the money."

"There was no suicide pact, was there?"

"Of course not. The insurance company wouldn't pay out for suicides. Had to make it look like an accident."

"So where did you get the gas?"

"It was already there; I knew Larry had been using gas illegally for years. When Zootopia went green, they didn't bother to rip up all the old gas lines, which he stole from the outer Burrows."

"So was it your idea to open up the oven?"

He clicked his tongue. "Larry was already drunk enough that he didn't catch it. The others didn't know."

"They didn't know the building had gas?"

"No. Only Larry knew."

"So why were they all there?"

"I owed them money."

"Of course you did."

"And I promised them I would pay them back if they showed up," he said, starting to smirk, clearly so proud of the scheme he had hatched. "So they did. Rich and Molly needed the money for her funeral, Peggy for her cancer treatment, Bill said he just needed the money, and Larry, well, Larry was so greedy he would've believed anything I told him. For a pig, he was an idiot."

"Bet the alcoholism didn't help."

"He could've been stone cold sober, and he'd still be an idiot," he snapped. "So yeah, I did it."

"You killed your friends."

"I you could call them that, sure. I killed them."

"So how did you get the life insurance from them without their knowledge or permission?"

"Wouldn't be the first time I did that. I've forged my fair share of checks, signatures weren't that hard."

"So you falsified records, committed insurance fraud, and premeditated murder. Am I missing anything?"

"Yeah, one thing." Redd saw an opening and lunged for his bag, drawing out the gun and pointing it right at his son. "You forgot to disarm a murder suspect. Not smart, Officer."

"Neither is threatening a police officer with a deadly weapon," Nick told him, adjusting his aim. "You've made a huge mistake. Many of them. Enough to put you in prison for the rest of your life."

Redd unlocked the safety on his weapon. "You'll have to arrest me first."

Even years later, Nick would not be able to explain how he kept calm with his own father holding a loaded gun to his head. Redd was close enough to fire point blank, and Nick not only didn't waver, didn't shake, he also didn't freeze. "Drop the weapon, Redd. Don't make this any harder than it already is."

"What, you're not going to shoot your old fox, are you? No one's that much of a coward."

"You're right: I'm not." He took a deep breath and growled out, "I'm _nothing_ like you." He saw his father raise his weapon and Nick fired.

The tranquilizer dart made a perfect hit, center mass, and Redd collapsed instantly, his gun clattering on the floor.

Nick let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and lowered his tranquilizer gun to his side. He took in a couple deep breaths to calm himself down, as he realized his hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush. Finally, after taking in another long, deep breath, he tugged on his jacket collar to reveal the microphone hidden underneath.

"He's down," he said. "Did you guys get all that?"

"Sure did," Judy said when she pushed open the door. "Loud and clear." The bunny looked down at the prone fox on the floor and shook her head. "I can't believe he would do that."

"I can't believe he _talked_ ," Nick said with a quirked brow. "For someone who claims to be smarter than the average bear, he fell for one of the most obvious traps I've ever seen."

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"As good as I can be." He looked at the gun still in his hand. "I need to turn this over to Bogo. Internal Affairs will want to investigate."

"No doubt," she said. She placed a hand on his arm as their backup arrived. "I'm glad you're okay, Nick."

Bogo stood outside the door. Nick walked forward and quietly handed over the weapon. The buffalo took it and clicked on the safety. "All right?" he asked.

Nick nodded. "For now, Chief."

"Good. And good job, Officer."

* * *

Word of Redd's arrest and confession renewed the public's and the media's interest in the case. Word of Nick's involvement in the capture of the criminal spread just as quickly, if not faster. The story actually overshadowed the citywide elections, not that there was much to report on: Lionheart held onto his office for yet another term, very narrowly defeating his opponent. Councilmember Charles Elkton was appointed City Manager, a move that was welcomed by the entire ZPD; Elkton, whose father had been a cop, was a well-known friend of law enforcement and first responders.

By far the most welcome news was that DA Lambert Ovis was soundly defeated by his opponent, F. Russell Burnram. The bighorn sheep's campaign would not let up on the other ram's conviction record, and taking into account the anti-predator events earlier in the year, any connection to Bellwether, however slim, was unwelcome. This was also news that the ZPD welcomed.

"Congrats, Mr. Burnram," Clawhauser said when he spotted the bighorn sheep the day after the election, also the day after Redd Wilde's arrest.

"Thank you, Officer Clawhauser," the ram greeted warmly. "Is Chief Bogo in?"

"Oh, yeah, I just saw him," the cheetah said, "He should be in his office by now."

"Excellent," he replied. "We need to meet with him on an urgent matter."

Clawhauser frowned. "We…?" Then he saw who was standing behind the ram. His cheerful smile fell quickly, and he greeted the newcomer civilly, but much less warmly. "DA Ovis."

DA Lambert Ovis only stared at the cheetah, then frowned with derision. Burnram gave his fellow ram a warning glare, as if to say "Behave yourself." The current DA then nodded at the rotund officer in acknowledgement.

"We'll show ourselves up," Ovis said shortly and began the walk up to the mezzanine.

Burnram waited until the sheep was out of earshot before he whispered to the cheetah, "Better call and warn him."

Clawhauser had already dialed. " _Way_ ahead of you."

* * *

Judy and Nick sat entrenched in their cubicle, working on their reports. There was a lot to cover over the past twenty-four hours, a lot of moving parts and missing pieces that needed to be knit together to make one cohesive story. They had their notes splayed out across the desk again, typing away as they tried to make sense of everything.

"Got the report in from the fire department," Judy said. "They found the gas line for the building."

"Did they say why it wasn't upgraded with the rest of the city?"

"Looks like it came down to money," the bunny said. "The contractors back then ruled that it was too expensive and too much work to completely redo the plumbing, wiring, and other systems. The statute against buildings using fossil fuels doesn't apply to historic buildings, if the building is a protected site."

"That place should've been condemned," Nick said.

"It was," she added. "Fire Chief Daly made the recommendation himself. In the New Year, 703 Oasis Drive will be completely demolished and a new apartment block will go up in its place. Everything will be up to date and up to code. Though those poor mammals that were displaced, they're all homeless now."

"Yeah," the fox replied, "But you saw the conditions they were living in. Homeless shelters are probably an improvement. I'm not saying that to be mean," he added when he saw her look. "I'm saying that from experience. That place still had lead pipes, poorly maintained gas appliances, black mold…it was a death trap."

"Literally," she said, looking at the crime scene photos again. "They didn't deserve this. And all for money?"

"I wish I could say I was surprised," Nick admitted, typing up another paragraph based on the fire department's findings. After his fingers stilled, he stared down at his keyboard and sighed. "But this is good, I think."

"How is this good?" Judy asked.

"Some weird form of closure, I guess." He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts. "I always knew Redd was complicated, I knew he wasn't a good person, and I knew I couldn't trust him. But I _wanted_ to."

"That's understandable, though," she told him, turning in her chair to face him. "He's your father, you hadn't seen him in years, and you wanted to believe him." She hesitated. " _Did_ you believe him?"

"I almost did," he said with a chuckle. "Until you said something."

Judy lowered her ears.

"Uh-uh. You put those ears back up, Fluff," he scolded. "You were the only one he didn't fool. You were the only one who never fell for his charm. You could see right through him this entire time."

"I didn't think he was capable of _this_ ," she said, motioning to the case notes splayed across the desk.

"No, but you knew something wasn't right. I'm glad you listened to that voice, and I'm glad I listened to you."

Judy smiled at him, and turned back to her report for a moment. After editing what she had already written, she began adding more content. "That night, after the diner with your—with Redd," she corrected herself, "You made a phone call before we went inside. You weren't calling your mother, were you?"

"No," he admitted. "I called Russ Burnram."

"The Assistant District Attorney?"

"Now District Attorney-elect," Nick reminded her, "And he was Redd's public defender. He only did _that_ because Mom asked him to. Apparently he owed her a favor."

"Must've been a big favor."

"Mom's saved quite a few lives over the years, so these are just grateful mammals who want to pay her back for her kindness. Just like her vacation and sick leave, she's stocked up enough favors to get by well into her golden years." He picked up a few loose pages and read over them. "I asked Burnram to look into something for me: whether or not the victims had life insurance. It was a long shot, because I knew neither of them really had any beneficiaries. Color me surprised when Russ calls back and tells me his contacts found the forged signatures on the life insurance policies, and that Redd is the sole beneficiary for each one."

"Because that isn't suspicious at all," she said. "But how did he do it? I thought you couldn't take out an insurance policy without their knowledge."

"It's probably not the first insurance fraud he's committed. In fact, I'm sure it isn't."

"Do you think there's any truth to his involvement with organized crime?"

"Undoubtedly. He's never been a successful hustler, so I bet he owes more money to more people than he can ever pay back."

"But still," she said, still trying to wrap her mind around it, "To kill his own friends?"

Nick sighed. "I don't think he really has friends. More like a means to an end."

"That's really sad."

"Yeah, it is."

They turned when someone knocked on their cubicle wall. Fangmeyer stood there, giving Nick a concerned look. "Hey, Wilde, Chief wants to see you in his office."

"Did he say why?"

The tigress shrugged. "I didn't ask, and he didn't tell me. But I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's not in a good mood."

Nick almost asked if Bogo was ever in a good mood, but held his tongue and quickly slipped off his chair to start walking to the buffalo's office. "Hey Carrots, would you grab me a gyro from the food truck when it gets here?"

"Will do. I know what you like."

Nick was able to hear over his shoulder:

"You know what he likes, huh?" Fangmeyer smugly asked her.

"Oh shush," Judy replied, her embarrassment evident in her tone.

The fox briefly wondered if he and Judy were also part of a betting pool, but kept walking up to the Chief's office. He waved to Clawhauser as he made his way up the stairs to the second floor. He knocked at Bogo's door and stepped in when the buffalo gave his permission.

Nick wasn't expecting the visitors. If Bogo had visitors, it was unlikely he was going to get a chewing out. But these visitors had him a bit on edge. Russell Burnram was, of course, not a problem. Lambert Ovis _was_ a problem. In fact, the ram glared at the fox as he entered and closed the door behind him.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" the fox asked.

"I did," the buffalo confirmed. "Have a seat. There's something we need to discuss."

Nick hopped up onto the chair Burnram had just vacated for him. Ovis still sat next to him, unmoving. Bogo didn't look worried, but he did look annoyed at the outgoing DA's behavior.

"I assume you know why you're here."

"I'm actually drawing a blank, sir."

"Russ?" the buffalo handed it over to the bighorn sheep. The latter coughed into his hoof and began,

"I thought you might want to know about your father's fate, considering your interest and involvement in the case. Have you finished your report on the matter?"

"It'll be done by this afternoon," the fox said with a look towards Bogo, who looked content with the answer. "Why do you ask?"

"Just covering our tails. Internal Affairs will look into the police-involved shooting, but no one is expecting charges to be brought against you," the bighorn said with a pointed look at his predecessor. "It's clear from the evidence that it was in self-defense."

"What about Redd?"

"Well, when he came to in the hospital, even before we could get cuffs on him, he lawyered up."

"What little use that was," the other ram scoffed. "We have his full confession on tape. Which I have to commend you for." He directed this last comment towards the fox, but it looked and sounded like the DA said it begrudgingly. "That could not have been easy."

"It was easier than you think."

None of the other males said anything at first, then Bogo spoke up. "Mr. Wilde has already entered into a plea bargain: he will plead guilty on all charges, on condition he tells us more about organized crime up in Timber Heights."

"It won't keep him out of prison," Burnram assured him, "But it will save him from the death chamber."

Nick sighed and closed his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. Finally, he asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"We'll need your testimony, and your report," Burnram continued. "That evidence will determine how many years he'll be behind bars."

"I can tell you how many," Nick said. "Life in prison. He killed five mammals, committed insurance fraud, lied to police multiple times, and assaulted a police officer with a deadly weapon…"

"We're aware of the charges," Ovis snapped. "Get on with it."

Nick held his tongue. He knew as well as any predator in the city that Lambert Ovis was a known speciest, and a suspected member of the Sheep Supremacist movement. His conviction record attested to that. Instead, he asked, "So which one of you will be charging him?"

"I've recused myself," Burnram stated, "As I was his public defender. Additionally, DA Ovis has agreed to recuse himself as well, and allow one of the ADAs to handle the prosecution. There can be no conflict of interest or questions of bias in these proceedings."

Ovis cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his wooly chest. "We will be announcing all of this at a press conference later this afternoon. We need you to be there, and we need you to make a statement."

Ah, and there it was, the real reason he had been called up there. Nick knew he couldn't avoid this forever, no matter how much he wanted to. The fox knew at some point he would have to say something about Redd, but he had hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

"So you need me to prepare a statement?" he asked.

"Yes," Bogo said. "And once it's prepared, we would like to look it over. If you don't mind."

He didn't mind. But he had still hoped to avoid it altogether. He had been resolved to put this all behind him and move on, now that all was said and done. It had seemed so easy, to be able to just close the book on this case and forget Redd ever existed. Now the fox's head was swirling. What would he say? "Am I dismissed?" he finally asked after a moment's deliberation.

"You are. Take your time," Bogo said, "But not too much."

* * *

Hours later, after completing his report, submitting his statement to Bogo for vetting, and eating an unsatisfying lunch, Nick stood by with Judy at his side shortly before the news conference was to begin. In a complete reversal from several months ago, it was the fox who was nervous, and the bunny was trying to calm him.

"Deep breaths, Slick. You got this," Judy soothed.

"I know. Why am I nervous? Can you believe that? Me, nervous about public speaking?"

"At least it's a prepared statement, so there won't be any," she coughed into her fist, "problematic comments."

"Yeah, only one of us gets to be off-the-cuff, eh Fluff?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you're able to joke around, you'll be fine."

"Pfft, I'll be cracking jokes on my deathbed." He turned when Burnram gently called his name. "Wish me luck," he whispered.

"Luck," she whispered back with a smile.

At the podium, Chief Bogo spoke briefly to the reporters before turning his attention to the fox standing off to the side. Nick felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he swallowed hard. Why was he, of all people, afraid of public speaking, considering his history? _Probably_ because _of my history,_ he thought, _in the past it's all been a lie to make a deal, now I have to tell the truth._ He ran his fingers over the prepared statement in his hands as he stepped up to the podium to deliver his address to the media.

When he stepped up level with the microphones, he felt the heat and the glare of the lights and cameras. Taking a deep breath to will down is pounding heart, Nick greeted the crowd in his usual way:

"I want to start by saying thank you, for coming out here today, and for being so patient with regards to my official statement. Not that I gave you much of a choice."

A few reporters chuckled, while others simply glared back at him, as if blaming him for lowered ratings. Which, in all honesty, he was probably responsible for. Nick cleared his throat and began to read off the cards in his hands.

"As Chief Bogo just explained, the suspect in the murders at 703 Oasis Drive is in custody and has been charged, and will be transferred to holding at Outback Island, where he will remain until trial. As you have all speculated, Robert Wilde – alias 'Redd' – is in fact my father."

He paused as cameras flashed wildly, and he closed his eyes against the glare. He glanced over to his left, where Judy was standing. She nodded at him in encouragement and gave him a little smile. Nick looked down at his statement, then back at her. The bunny's smile fell, then her ears perked up when she realized what he wanted to do. Much to his surprise, instead of the glowering, disapproving looks from DA Ovis and Chief Bogo, Judy smiled again, and nodded. Nick smiled at her, looked down at his statement…then made a show of holding it up and ripping it in two.

"Oh no…" he heard Bogo say before the fox addressed the crowd:

"Look, folks, I can't comment on an existing case," Nick continued, "especially one that hasn't gone to trial yet, but I don't think any of you really care about that anyway. You just want to know about me, about my—about Redd. You want to know if there was a conflict of interest, considering we're related. I'm happy to tell you there is no conflict of interest, because there's no relationship at all.

"Mr. Wilde and I are strangers, and have been for…well, my whole life. He walked out when I was twelve, causing me to grow up far sooner than any kid should. I don't call him my father because he was never a father to begin with." When paused to take a breath, he realized the entire lobby had fallen into total silence. The looks on the reporters' faces told him they had not been expecting this impromptu statement, and truth be told, he wasn't sure where he was going with this either.

Then he looked over their heads, at the other side of the lobby. And he smiled.

Standing with their backs against the wall, some waving, some smiling, some in uniform, some in civvies, were his coworkers. Fangmeyer and Francine beamed at him, McHorn and Higgins nodded and waved, and, much to Nick's relief, Wolford and Lupez were also there, dressed in freshly pressed new uniforms. They stood next to Grizzoli and Snarlov, Rhinowitz and Delgato, and so many others. And, of course, Clawhauser was also there, giving him an exuberant thumbs up.

Smiling back at them, Nick continued, "But there's no point in holding onto the past. I used to believe that your past is what makes you, you. That's not true, not for me, anyway. What you do _now_ , what you make of yourself now, is what makes you who you are. Lord knows I'm not perfect, and I didn't have the happiest upbringing, but none of that matters. Turns out, I don't need Redd: I have my mother, who has the patience of a saint, and the goodness of an angel. And I have a family, right here. As corny as it sounds, it's true. My family is the ZPD." He turned to look at Bogo, who still looked annoyed, but also a little relieved; and he looked at Judy, who was smiling wide, her eyes shining. Nick returned her smile and finished, "And that makes me the luckiest guy in the world."

* * *

"Parking duty. Two weeks."

"Two weeks?"

"After that little stunt, you're lucky it's not a pink slip."

Nick refused to be cowed, even though the buffalo's glare was truly a sight to behold. He was sure Bogo's eyes could burn a hole right through the intended target if he tried hard enough. And it looked like he was going to. But, Nick had to accept that his unplanned speech would have repercussions, and parking duty would be just that. As long as Judy wasn't forced into it to suffer with him, he was fine with it.

"I bet the DA wasn't happy with me, either," the fox astutely guessed.

"Burnram had to escort him out before he had an aneurysm," the buffalo explained. He didn't look too bothered by the fact the outgoing District Attorney nearly had an apoplectic attack due to Nick going off-script. "There's a bloody good reason we wanted to sign off on that statement. You could have jeopardized the case against the defendant by saying anything about it."

"Which I didn't. I knew what I was doing," the fox said. "I know going off-script was a bad idea, and I deserve to be punished for insubordination, I won't contest that. But I don't have any regrets." He paused and looked the chief square in the eye. "I meant everything I said. And you were right. About family."

This stopped Bogo from saying whatever it was he was about to say. The buffalo stared down at him and waited for an explanation. Nick took in a deep breath and explained,

"You were right about the ZPD being my new family. I thought it was just me and Mom, but now…I know it sounds cheesy, but now I've got more siblings and aunts and uncles than I know what to do with. And it feels good knowing that for the first time I have so many watching my back."

Bogo sighed heavily and shook his head. "You took a stupid risk. The media is going to take that statement and run with it, and talking heads are going to rip it apart. You could have ruined the case we have against your father."

"I didn't say anything more than what was in the official press release. Besides, with the election results in, they'll have something else to focus on."

"Oh to be that naïve again," the Chief muttered.

He was cut off when his door slammed open, making Nick jump from the sudden noise. "John, I need you to—oh."

ZBI Director Regina Roarke stared down at the uniformed fox, then glanced back at the buffalo.

Bogo's desk phone buzzed, and Clawhauser said through the speaker, _"Um, Chief, you have a visitor."_

Bogo glared at the lioness, then the fox, then the phone. He kept his voice even and said, "I know," before hitting mute. " _Yes_?" he asked her.

She coughed into her fist. "I didn't realize you were busy. I'll come back."

Bogo sighed and closed his eyes in resignation. "No, stay. Wilde, get out."

The fox slid down the chair and quickly walked out the door. He had no idea who that lioness was, but he didn't need more than a passing glance to know she was dangerous even for a predator. Nick waited until the lioness closed the door behind him before he jogged down the stairs to Clawhauser's desk. Several other officers were already there, huddled around the intercom connected to Bogo's office.

Judy was also there, but any indignation at violating their boss's privacy was completely lost amidst mutual desire to know what was going on. McHorn gave Nick a leg up so that he was sitting next to Judy on the counter so they could listen as the argument unfolded:

* * *

"You need to put Redd Wilde in solitary," Regina urged.

"That's not going to happen," Bogo said flatly.

"And why not?"

"Because it's torture," he said simply. "And as long as I have any say in it, no one in my custody will be put in it."

"I'm not making this demand to punish him," she said, "I'm a bitch, but I'm not heartless." Regina rounded his desk and looked him square in the eye. "I told you I would keep you informed about the status of my case. Well, here it is: Redd Wilde is a valuable witness to my case, and I need him alive. And that won't happen as long as he's in general population."

"So I'll make the recommendation that he be put in a more secured area."

"That's not good enough!" she snapped. "John, I am this close to solving a thirty-year-old series of murders, and I can't do that if my one person of interest is dead. Put him in solitary confinement, for his own safety."

Bogo arched a brow. "Why are you so insistent? What's got you…" he trailed off when he realized something truly remarkable. "You're scared."

She didn't respond with more than a steady poker face.

"Good lord," he breathed. "You are. In all the years I've known you, you've never—"

"Can we focus on the matter at hand, please?" she growled. "You said it yourself, I have a good track record, and I'm not going to let this opportunity slip through my hands."

"This is bigger than your case," he said, his voice dangerously low. "Wilde is a murderer. He killed five creatures who were the closest thing to friends he had left, all to pay off some debt to a mob boss—"

"Who is behind my case!" she shouted. She took a deep breath to calm herself before she continued. "All the evidence is pointing to the individuals he was alleged to have dealings with in Timber Heights. I have no problem showing you the evidence, but you need to give me your word that you will put Wilde into solitary."

"I already told you that's not going to happen."

"Then I'll take it up with the warden at Outback Island."

"He and I are of the same mind - he doesn't use solitary unless given no other choice. We're not going to put someone in there who hasn't done anything to deserve it."

"You said so yourself, he's a murderer. And let me add: he's also a thief, a liar, a fraud, and willing to stab anyone in the back in order to save his own skin. He almost killed his own son! And you're telling me he doesn't deserve that?"

"His ultimate punishment is not up to me," Bogo said, standing. "That is up to the courts."

"If he lives long enough to see trial," Regina shot back. "You're right, okay? I'm afraid. I'm afraid for Redd, I'm afraid for you, I'm afraid for your officers and my own agents, anyone who has ever crossed paths with that fox. You think Mr. Big is bad? He's got nothing on Old Tony Ferretti."

Bogo froze, studying her carefully to see if she was joking. She wasn't. "So it _is_ Ferretti then?"

"All the evidence points to him."

"Why would he do it?"

"I can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"Then I can't help you."

"Why are you being so damn stubborn?!" she finally snapped. "You told me I could come to you for anything, and I took you at your word."

"I don't like your implication, Director Roarke," he said icily. "It sounds like you're calling me a liar."

"Then maybe I am."

The mood in the room shifted very quickly into a very, very dangerous territory. Even Regina, who never gave a single damn, knew she had screwed up. It was well known in the city that there were only two things Chief John Bogo would not tolerate: being called a coward, and being called a liar. And now she finally got to see the side of Chief John Bogo that left far lesser mammals quaking down to the last hair. The buffalo raised himself to his full height, which meant he towered over her, and she fought the urge to lay her ears back.

"Redd Wilde," Bogo said lowly, "Is staying right where he is."

"Then his blood is on your hands," she dared to say.

"I can live with that."

"Can you?"

"I live with worse."

The room felt absolutely silent once again, and Regina realized that she had lost. The lioness sighed heavily and stepped away.

"Fine," she said, tearing her gaze off of his burning eyes. "You win."

"This isn't a game," he reminded her, "And it's not a competition."

"That's not what I meant." She turned back to him and glared. "I was a fool for thinking you would be a good choice."

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes. You were."

She finally turned on him. "You know _exactly_ why I want you!"

"And you understand _exactly_ why I keep saying no."

"No! No, I _don't_ understand!" she shook her head. "John, you are wasting your time and talents here! For the last time, _join the ZBI_! You would be an amazing agent, you could do so much good! So much more than just some dumb cop!"

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She was horrified, and pressed her hand against her mouth, stunned she had said it. His face was unreadable, but his eyes flashed dangerously.

"I didn't mean it," she said quickly.

"Yes you did."

"It was a slip of the tongue—"

"Which means you meant every word." He glared at her and fought the urge to raise his voice. "I am more than 'just some dumb cop'. I am not 'just' anything. I am the Chief of Police, I love my job, I love my officers, and I will not abandon them for anything. And if that's your opinion of me, then yes, you made a terrible mistake in thinking I would make a good agent."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then did the one thing he had never seen her do in all the years he had known her: she backed down.

"I'll let myself out," she said quietly, then proceeded to do just that.

Bogo slumped down into his chair with a resigned sigh and held his head in his hands for a long moment. He took several deep breaths to tamp down on the rising rage. The buffalo was fairly sure that the next sorry sod to walk through that door would get the full force of a bull's horns if they so much as sneezed.

Someone sneezed.

He looked up with a glare. There was no one standing at his door. Then he looked down at the phone on his desk. The little red light was still on. He then realized he had not hit the mute button after all.

"Oh bloody hell."

* * *

No one said a word about what they had overheard. The general consensus was that it would be better for their health if they didn't. Chief Bogo didn't make an appearance outside his office for the rest of the day, only leaving to watch as guards from the Outback Island Maximum Security Prison escorted the new prisoner to his new home.

Nick stood next to his partner in a line with other officers to watch as the prisoner was led away. Perp walks were always interesting to watch, but this one took on even more significance. One could tell a lot from a perp walk, get a better read on the kind of person they were dealing with. It seemed like almost half of the department had come out to either see the spectacle or provide moral support for one of their own.

The officers in the fox's immediate vicinity were clearly in the latter group.

After being assembled for at least fifteen minutes, the doors to the holding cells finally opened and no less than four officers appeared with Redd in between them. They formed a protective barrier around the chained fox, already dressed in the bright orange prison jumpsuit he would wear for the rest of his life. Just as he had when he first arrived there, Redd lifted his face to look out at the crowd. He zeroed in on Nick immediately.

And just as before, Nick didn't betray a single emotion.

This time, though, Redd knew he was defeated. He sighed and lowered his head again, shuffling along with Andersen's huge paw on his slight shoulder.

Judy took Nick's paw in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. He returned her kind gesture with a vice-like grip. His instincts were flaring up, and he wanted, no, needed to do something. The rational part of his mind told him no. All common sense told him not to do it. He gave the rational voice in his head, and trotted forward.

"Wait!" he called out to the officers, who all paused halfway across the lobby. Nick trotted right up to Redd and looked him in the eye. "I need to ask you something."

Redd looked understandably wary. "Okay."

"Did you ever love me?"

The look in the older fox's eyes was heartbreaking. Nick swore he saw tears in those sharp green eyes, but he had to be imagining it. Redd looked away and set his jaw. He looked back up at him with a hardened poker face and said,

"Do you want the truth, or the answer you want to hear?"

"I think you just answered it," the younger male replied. He glanced up and nodded at the officers and stepped back to allow them to escort the prisoner out. He didn't bother watching as his father's form shuffled out the front door. He didn't bother to watch as his father was loaded into a guarded, armored van.

Nick felt Judy's hand on his shoulder, and willingly opened his arms to welcome the hug she had undoubtedly been holding back on. He was surprised when he felt another hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Wolford and Lupez offering their own condolences. Francine and Fangmeyer were also there, with McHorn and Higgins literally at his back. For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Nick didn't feel so alone anymore.

He finally looked out the doors as the prison transport van pulled away from the curb and towards its final destination.

Nick was confident he would never see his father again. And he was perfectly okay with that.

* * *

Helen Wilde gently fingered the silver charm around her neck, feeling the raised relief of the lit oil lamp. She stared into her teacup and sighed heavily. "Well, that's that, then," she said.

Nick only nodded and sipped at his coffee. Judy was with them, of course; Nick had insisted on visiting his mother after they got off work, and the little bunny was only too happy to accept the invitation. Finnick had already been there when they arrived; Helen's cooking was a very welcome siren song.

Nick looked at his mother and his eyes lingered on her necklace. "I'm surprised you still have that."

The vixen smiled. "Why wouldn't I? You gave it to me for Christmas when you were thirteen. I remember what you said, too: that you were the man of the house now, and I worked so hard that I deserved something nice."

" _Aww_ ," Judy cooed.

"Still," he said sheepishly, blushing under Judy's adoration (and the smile on his mother's face didn't help). "You own better jewelry, I know that."

His mother shook her head. "I had to pawn most of it. Besides, almost all of it were gifts from your father, and I was happy to see them go. Besides," she added with a fond smile. "I like this. You could've gotten anything else, but you were so proud of the fact I was a nurse that you wanted to get me something to celebrate that."

"Well yeah. You work hard, you always have. And like I said, I never really appreciated everything you did for me. I do now. I'm just sorry it took so long for me to realize…"

"Better late than never." She took his hand in hers and smiled at him. "I'm just glad to have you back."

Finnick cleared his throat and coughed. "So, um...what now? With the case, I mean. He's goin' to trial, right?"

"In the new year," Judy said as her phone began to ring. "It's my parents, sorry, gotta take this…"

Nick continued the explanation. "He'll need the time to prepare for the trial. His new public defender is not the best lawyer, but not the worst either."

"Small miracle he's not gettin' death," the fennec said. "But if what you said is true, he's lucky to be alive anyway."

"Could we please talk about something else?" Helen gently asked. "Like Thanksgiving. I asked off that day, so I thought it would be nice to have you all over for dinner."

Nick was surprised. "I thought you always worked the late shift on Thanksgiving?"

"Oh I have so many vacation and sick days saved up, I could afford to take off the rest of the year with no trouble. But I can spare a couple days to spend time with my son and his...friends." She added this with a significant look in Judy's direction. Nick scowled. Clearly she had not let up on this. And now with Redd out of the way and out of her mind for good, his mother could focus all her attention on meddling with his love life. Or lack thereof.

He was caught off guard when Judy handed him her phone. She had a curious look on her face to match his. "My dad wants to talk to you."

Nick couldn't have been any more dumbfounded, and blurted out, "Why?"

Judy just shrugged and handed him the phone. Her parents had called her on MuzzleTime, so Nick forced his best smile and most conciliatory tone. "Hi, Mr. Hopps."

He knew what Stu Hopps looked like from the pictures plastered all over Judy's meager apartment, but he still wasn't prepared for seeing just how warm and welcoming the carrot farmer was, at least over the phone.

" _Aw heck, you can call me Stu. Judy's told us all about you. How you doin'?"_

This situation was so surreal it caught him completely off guard. One glance at Judy made him wonder if it was a family trait. Stu was being so... _nice_ to him. Why?

"I'm...fine?"

" _You sure? It's just we saw what was going on in the news…"_

 _Hoo boy,_ the fox thought. "Yeah, they like to exaggerate," he explained. "Everything's fine, really."

" _Ah, well, just the same, me and Bonnie - mostly Bonnie - but me too - both of us - we're real sorry about what happened. You seem like a decent guy, and you don't deserve something like that."_

"I...that's very nice of you to say."

" _Oh it's no problem. Listen, me and Mrs. Hopps were talkin', and since we're expecting Judy home for Thanksgiving, why don't you come with her?"_

He was floored. A quick glance at the other two foxes in the room proved they were just as shocked by the offer. "I...don't know what to say," he said honestly.

Stu continued, _"It's just that you mean a lot to Judy - you're all she ever talks about…"_

Helen smiled smugly and quietly sipped her tea. Judy was so mortified that she hid her face behind her ears. Finnick was visibly trying not to laugh.

" _...And we thought we should meet the fella she loves."_

Nick blinked. Then blinked again. "Huh?"

" _Well you are her boyfriend, aren't you?"_ Stu asked curiously.

"What? No!" he said hastily.

Stu's answer threw him for another loop: _"Really? Why not?"_

Nick didn't have an immediate answer for that. Both his mother and Judy's parents seemed convinced of a romantic relationship, even if he and his partner weren't. "We're just friends, Stu," Nick finally said. "Besides, she's my partner at work. Don't dip your pen in the office ink, as they say."

It was clear from Stu's expression that he didn't believe a word the fox said. _"Uh-huh. Well, friend, boyfriend, whatever you are, you're important to her, and, heck, she wouldn't've hauled tail back to the city like that if it was just to solve a case. I know my little girl better than that."_

Nick heard Judy muttering under her breath from behind her veil of ears. Those ears were now beet red from the blush.

"I appreciate it, Stu," Nick said, feeling the room suddenly warm up, "But I already promised my mom we would have Thanksgiving together. We just reconnected after seven years, we need to make up for lost time." He could have been wrong, but Stu actually looked disappointed. Then the phone on his end shook a bit until it was passed onto another rabbit: Bonnie.

" _Nick, is it just you and your mom for Thanksgiving?"_ the rabbit matron asked.

"And an old friend of mine, I think," he added with a look at Finnick. The fennec looked touched for just being considered; it reminded him that Finnick had no family he was speaking to anymore. This would have been his first Thanksgiving in years. Bonnie's response shocked him more than anything else the Hopps patriarchs had said so far:

" _Well invite them both."_

Nick's jaw dropped. "Um...sorry?"

Bonnie was insistent. _"Your mother and your friend are more than welcome. It's not like we don't have the room. And we'll have things you can eat, of course."_

"You shouldn't have to go out of your way…"

" _It's no trouble on our end. Just bring yourselves, we'll take care of the rest."_

Judy finally peeked out from under her ears, still red-faced, but now in awe of her parents' offer. The other two foxes were just as astonished, sharing disbelieving looks between themselves. Nick finally looked back at the phone. "I really don't know what to say. That's...really nice of you." He paused when he saw his mother gesturing and nodding enthusiastically. He sighed. "We would love to come."

" _Oh, is she there? Your mother?"_ Bonnie asked excitedly.

"Yeah, I'll hand you over if you want to talk menus."

Stu interrupted, _"Now just a minute here, I got one more thing I wanna say. Nick,"_ he said seriously, _"I know this is comin' from way outta left field, here, but I want you to know that from all I've heard about you that you're a heckuva guy. I know it's not much, but you're always welcome at our house."_

Nick finally understood what Stu was really saying. And he had never felt more touched. He fought back the urge to cry, noting that Helen had already lost that battle, and even Finnick's eyes looked a little misty. Judy was openly crying now, smiling at her father's kind gesture. Nick didn't trust himself to speak for a moment or two, but when he finally got control of his emotions and felt he could answer with tolerable dignity, he said,

"Stu, you have no idea how happy that makes me." He took in a deep breath and finished, "We'll be there Thursday morning."

* * *

 _Late November 2016_

"Meeting my parents wasn't so bad, was it?" Judy asked as Nick invited her back into his apartment. They had just returned from a couple days out at the Hopps farm, which had gone better than either of them expected. Stu Hopps had not greeted Nick or Helen or even Finnick with a fox Taser, or fox repellant, or any other anti-fox protection devices. Instead, he offered Nick a firm handshake, which was entirely unexpected, but enthusiastically welcome; Helen and Finnick were just as warmly welcomed, even if the latter looked exceedingly uncomfortable surrounded by rabbits, some much bigger than he was. Bonnie Hopps and Helen Wilde had clicked immediately, and together both mothers had fussed over them, made sure they were fed and well-rested, and the rabbit matron went out of her way to help Nick and her other guests not feel so overwhelmed by the sea of bunnies that awaited them. Judy had warned him ahead of time that she had 275 brothers and sisters, but that most had already left the house and lived on their own. A good half still lived there, though, which was enough.

But now, Nick settled down onto his own bed and sighed, popping his back. "No, not too bad. That bed was a slab, though."

"Yeah, sorry, my brother Michael likes a firm mattress."

"Mattress? I've slept on floors that were more comfortable." The fox fell back onto his bed and sighed happily. "Ah, home, sweet home. No offense, Carrots."

"None taken." She set down the jars of blueberry jam and preserves that Bonnie Hopps had so graciously given as gifts – early Christmas gifts, she called them – much to Nick's delight. "I'd forgotten how little privacy I had there. Makes me appreciate my tiny little shoebox."

"Except Bucky and Pronk can hear every conversation you have."

She shrugged. "I'm used to it. They're better about it now." The bunny hopped up onto his bed and laid down next to him, feeling her body sink into the mattress and cool sheets. After a moment staring up at the ceiling, she turned to look at him. "How are you really doing?"

He didn't answer right away. He crossed his hands beneath his head and kept his green eyes trained on the ceiling. "I'm doing better, I think. In some weird way, I have closure. Redd's out of my life for good, but I was already used to that. It just means that now, I'm definitely never seeing him again."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Actually, I am." He smiled. "I _am_ okay with that."

Judy reached over and touched his arm. Wordlessly, he lowered that arm and gently grasped her hand. "Really," he asserted, "I'm fine."

"It's just…" she hesitated before slowly venturing, "It all happened so fast and so suddenly, that he was just in and out, just like that."

"To be fair, I'm kinda used to it." The fox turned his head to look at her. "He was in and out of my childhood all the time. I thought he had left for good when I was a kid. This time, he really is gone."

"I'm so sorry you went through all that. You didn't deserve that. He was not a nice person."

"You're right," he admitted with a nod. "He was a terrible person, and he got what he deserved. The real tragedy is what happened to his victims."

"But he's going to prison; he'll serve time for his crimes."

"It doesn't feel like it'll be long enough, to be honest with you." He sighed and stared back up at the ceiling. "I decided to start seeing the precinct therapist. I got some things I need to work out."

"That's good. Good for you, I mean. This has to be a lot to process."

"It is. And I'm trying to get over my own guilt here."

"What guilt?" she asked with a frown. "You are the last person who should feel guilty."

"I knew he wasn't guilty, but I also knew he wasn't innocent. He fooled me, he fooled everyone, but he didn't fool you. I think I was so desperate to want some kind of relationship with him that I would've believed anything he said. And you know, there was a lot about that case that bothered me.

"For one thing, it bugged me every time Redd said something about _honest_ work or making an _honest_ living, because it reminded me of how long I earned my living _dis_ honestly. And all the times he said 'trust me' made me think of all the times I betrayed someone's trust just to make a buck. I held my tongue every single time he said something like that because I thought I had no moral leg to stand on. I couldn't judge him for the same things that I was guilty of."

"Nick…" she gripped his hand tighter. "You said it yourself the day you arrested him: you are nothing like him. The difference between you is that you knew what you were doing was wrong, and you did everything to fix it. He never tried, or at least he didn't want to try. For what it's worth, I think - _everyone_ thinks - you have more integrity in one hair than he ever had in his whole body." She turned onto her side to face him. "You're not dishonest, you're not a liar, and you're not a coward. You are everything your father was not."

She suddenly remembered something and jumped up. "I almost forgot! I got your Christmas present early!"

Bemused, Nick sat up and stared at her as she dug through her luggage for a small, rectangular object covered in bright wrapping paper and topped off with a shiny green bow. How had he missed her packing that? It must've been when her younger siblings bunny-piled on him...perhaps the fourth or fifth time. She handed the present over to him, and once taking it into his hands, he knew right away that it was a book.

He gave her a look. "Christmas is a month away. Why are you giving this to me now?"

"You don't have to open it right now," she said. "You can save it for Christmas if you want. But...I just thought you should have it. As a reminder."

"Reminder of what?"

"A reminder of who you are."

The fox smirked at her. "If you think I'm going to wait to open this…"

The bunny giggled. "I thought so. Go ahead, Slick."

Nick gently tore at the paper, and once he had pulled it away from the cover, he froze. His eyes widened as he read the title, then he tore the rest of the paper away and let it fall to the floor. He stared at the title again, then looked up at his partner.

Judy frowned and instantly feared the worst. "You don't like it. What was I thinking? I should've picked something else. Nick, I'm sor—"

He cut her off when he stood up and hugged her tightly. Judy reveled in the warmth coming off his body and squeezed back in return. She thought she heard a telltale sniff before he pulled away and looked back down at the book. He smiled. A wide, warm, genuine smile.

"I love it. Thank you."

She sighed with relief and read the book's title: _The Merrie Adventures of Robin Hood_. A green-clad fox archer decorated the front cover, the bow drawn taut with the arrow fletched and ready to fly. When she saw it in the store, she swore it looked like Nick - not that all foxes looked alike, mind - and indeed the resemblance was uncanny. And the book had all the known stories about the famous outlaw and folk hero, some she knew about (such as the archery tournament), and others she had never heard of. But the cast of characters were all there: Little John, Friar Tuck, Maid Marian...all of them.

"I just thought," she said softly, "That you said, a few months ago, how much you wanted to be like him when you were a kid. Your mom said you used to have this old paperback book with all the Robin Hood stories."

"Yeah, I did," he said, sniffing again, his voice croaking from emotion. "I read that thing until it fell apart. This is...this is wonderful. Thank you, Judy."

She hugged him again and whispered, "You are brave. You are trustworthy. You are honest. You are honorable, and generous, and kind. You are everything your hero was. You are everything Redd was not. Nick, you are far and above the most decent and wonderful mammal I know."

Nick kissed the top of her head, right between her ears. "And you are the sweetest, most loyal friend I have. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'd do it again a hundred times."

Now Judy felt the tears stinging her eyes. She had to change the subject or she would start bawling in front of him. "Okay, now we're just getting sappy."

"Totally," he quickly agreed. "Time to lift the mood?"

"If you want." She noticed him gazing at the book again, and she smiled. "How about, instead of a movie, we read one of those stories? I haven't heard of most of them."

He visibly thought about it, then he shook his head. "Nah, a movie sounds good. Y'know, I kinda wanted to see Meowana."

"Oh thank God!" she said with relief. "I've wanted to see it _so_ bad, it's been driving me crazy."

Nick chuckled and set the book aside. "Alright, I'll grab my keys and we'll go. On one condition."

"Name it!"

He pointed between the two of them. "You. Me. Star Boars: Snout One. Midnight release."

"Well yeah, obviously we're going to see _that_."

"Midnight release?"

"Midnight release."

"Even if we have work in the morning?"

"That's what coffee's for."

"I would marry you right now if I could."

She giggled and picked up her coat. Judy was chatting so excitedly about the films that were about to come out that she completely missed his fond smile as he looked at her. She truly was something else. Nick glanced around his tiny studio apartment, noting that the couch, kitchen, and his bed were all essentially in the same room, and was almost as much of a broom closet as Judy's apartment was. He glanced at the nightstand, where his badge sat gleaming in the fading afternoon light. And he looked at his phone as a text came in from his mother confirming their dinner plans for next week. It all seemed too good to be true, too surreal to be real.

Six months ago, he was homeless, essentially jobless, with only one real friend in the world. He was also estranged from the only real family he had left. Six months later, he had a home, small though it was. He had a steady, relatively stable job - as a cop no less! He had so many friends he had a hard time remembering all their names; he was going to poker nights and happy hours for crying out loud! He was speaking to his mother again, and their relationship was stronger than it had ever been. And his family - and his definition of it - had expanded so much and so quickly it still left him breathless.

And it was all thanks to this little bunny. This wonderful, sweet, perfect little bunny.

She stopped in the doorway and turned to look back at him. Her violet eyes were shining with mirth. "C'mon, partner, you coming?"

He smiled and pocketed his keys and phone. "Yup. Lead the way, Carrots."

There had been so much uncertainty over the past six months. But there was one thing he was absolutely certain about as he followed Judy out the door: he would follow her towards whatever the future held for them.

* * *

I enjoyed writing for this fandom, and would definitely like to revisit it at a later date, time and energy permitting. Nick and Judy had a special place in my heart, as do all the other characters, and I would love to write more of them. Though maybe with a little more humor; this fic was about as maudlin as my writing can get.

A couple things: I had always imagined Redd would be more sinner than saint, that he would have some redeeming qualities but ultimately give in to his dark side and fall into the "sly fox" stereotype his son tries so hard to fight. I don't expect this twist to be a popular move, that people expect someone to be either perfectly innocent or perfectly evil, but I find the flawed characters are the most interesting to write...even if they are more than a little infuriating.

I also don't expect Regina's actions in this chapter to be entirely liked, but that's not the point. No one in this story is perfect, they all have flaws, some more than others, and Regina is as much a victim of this as anyone else. In my mind she's a lot like Judy: very single-minded in her goals, consequences be damned. A couple people theorized that she had romantic feelings for Bogo, but that was not my intention. Unlike my NickxJudy shipping, I only ever see Regina and Bogo as friends.

One last thing that I hope will tug at the heartstrings: Nick's call with Stu is taken from my own personal experience with my parents welcoming my husband into the family. I tried to capture the emotions in this scene, but it's hard to put something like that into words. Hopefully I got some of the point across.

Thank you all for reading my humble little story. If you would like to see more from me here, let me know! Maybe the new year will bring some good surprises.


End file.
